Someone's Watching Over You
by Lady Shadiait
Summary: I am an Angel from God who has been assigned to Kurt Wagner as a guardian. Please be nice, this is my first attempt. Final chapter up.
1. First Meetings

this is my first piece, so please be nice. I do not own any characters other than Victoria, who is of my own creation. Marvel owns Nightcrawler, Storm, etc.

credit for the idea of this piece goes to Morph's "Nightcrawler Spirit", "Sparrow Spirit", and "Skinner Spirit" pieces. Morph, if you are reading this, please don't hurt me.

please review.

SOMEONE'S WATCHING OVER YOU

I instinctively crossed myself as I entered the church. It had been beautiful once, I could tell, but had fallen into disrepair. I glided, soundlessly, to the upper level, "Kurt?" I stopped.

He was sprawled on the bed, clutching his rosary over his heart. He had passed out from a combination of exhaustion and blood loss. "Oh, Father. How could this…" I let the thought trail.

I stood beside his bed, forcing back tears of remorse and pity for him. "Kurt Wagner?"

His eyes opened, he struggled to his feet "wha…who are you?" he mumbled in English.

"I'm an angel, Kurt, from God." I allowed a gentle glow to surround myself; really we don't 'glow' unless we need to prove ourselves. Angels don't have wings or halos, but we do fly and we can cause ourselves to light up.

I hadn't been on the job very long, only two years or so, but had seen many different reactions to 'I'm an angel'. But no one ever reacted like him. Imagine my surprise, as Kurt Wagner, rosary pressed to his lips, collapsed on his knees at my feet. His voice trembling as he attempted to pray.

I quickly knelt beside him, "there's no need for that." I reached out to put my arms around him, but he pulled away from my touch.

His words were in German, but I recognized them anyway, "Heavenly Father, forgive me." At that point I stopped listening. He raised his head after a moment, "you are really an angel?"

"Yes, I wouldn't lie."

His brow furrowed, "why would Gott send me an angel?"

"Because He knows you need me." I stroked his back, and this time he didn't pull away. I helped him to his feet and set him on the bed gently. I sat beside him, "I'm here to take care of you."

He buried his face in my shoulder, "Why me?" he sobbed, "Is Gott angry with me?"

"No, Kurt. God didn't want this to happen."

"He couldn't stop it?" I had no answer ready, but he continued, "_Ja_, I understand, I am not supposed to know." For several moments he was quiet, then he turned to me again, "Angel, if you could answer me just one question…"

"Of course."

"Has Gott forgiven the ones who did this to me?"

It's hard, even for an angel, to pinpoint to exact moment when your heart breaks for someone. But, seeing this tortured soul asking to know if his tormentors had been forgiven was the point when my heart crumbled. "I don't know, I would think so."

"I hope he will," he paused, "I pray for them."

"I know, and He knows."

"He hears my prayers?" there was something childlike in his voice.

"Yes, Kurt; He hears every prayer. He heard you pray in the Whitehouse, when you begged Him to help you. He wept that He could not. He hears the prayers you hold deep inside yourself because you cannot find the words."

He bowed his head, clutched his rosary, and began to whisper. I could hear this prayer; he was thanking God for sending me. My heart swelled with sorrow for him. "Will you be with me long?" he finally asked.

"I am to stay until I am called home. I will be with you a while, for as long as you need me. I will stay with you through everything that is going to happen, but understand that it is not within my power to change it. Also, I am visible to your eyes and ears only. No one else can see or hear me, and you can't tell anyone about me. Think of me as your guardian angel."

"I would like to think of you as a friend," He whispered shyly, "do you have a name?"

Truth be told, I don't, but angels are allowed to take on names where required. I thought quickly for one, but before I could settle on something appropriate, he interrupted my thoughts, "it is all right, I will call you Angel, if that is what you would like."

"No, no, you can call me Victoria," I hurriedly told him, grabbing at a random name.

"Victoria, that is a lovely name."

"Th…thank-you," I whispered, wondering where Storm and Jean were. I had just enough future sight to know to expect them. After their arrival, I would be playing by ear.

It was just then that the doors burst open, accompanied by a howling wind. I jumped, as did Kurt. "I will be right back," he mumbled to me as he stood, and slipped into the shadowy rafters.


	2. Pain and tears

Victoria learns a little more about Kurt, as he explains everything to Storm and Jean.

* * *

"These are the coordinates," I heard Jean say. Glancing down, I saw the two women standing in the front of the church. I knew I wasn't supposed to get involved, but if they hurt him in any way they were going to have to answer to me.

"Gehen Sie raus! Ich bin der Bote des Teufels. Ich bin die Ausgeburt des Bosen." I had to chuckle quietly, _so dramatic_, I thought, _but that's his style_. He teleported a couple times, scaring bats and pigeons, which flew through the roof.

"He's a teleporter," Jean determined. I smiled _'must be why_….

"Must be why the Professor had trouble locking onto him." She finished. Okay, now I was as much in the dark about what was going to happen as Kurt was. They only give us information on a need-to-know basis.

"We're not here to hurt you!" I heard Storm call, "we just wanna talk_!" Think about it, would you trust that in his position?_

"Gehen Sie raus! Ich bin der Bote des Teufels!" obviously Kurt didn't.

"Bored yet?" Jean asked Storm. Kurt glanced over his shoulder at me, I held up one hand in a classic 'I'm right here' pose. He didn't seem to here Storm agree.

"Sure you don't wanna come down?" she called. _Stay where you are_ I pleaded silently, and he did, glaring down at what he perceived as two intruders.

I swallowed hard as Storm began to gather an indoor thunderstorm; whatever she was about to do, Kurt was not going to like it. Although I was not supposed to, I braced myself to intervene on a moments notice. Lightning shot thought the church and struck, not him but the beam he was sitting on, it shattered. I heard him scream with shock as he plummeted to the ground. I held my breath. With only about four feet to go, Jean caught him telekinetically, suspending him upside down. He stopped screaming instantly, but was panting hard. He looked up at me, terrified, but was forced to break his eye contact as Jean slowly spun him to face them.

"You got him?" Storm asked. Something about her tone made me want to hit her.

"He's not going anywhere," Jean assured her, then sarcastically to Kurt, "are you?"

"Please don't kill me," he begged them, holding out his hands to show he was unarmed. We both knew that they could, but I felt that they wouldn't. "I never meant to harm anyone."

"Why would people have gotten that impression?" Storm asked in a sarcastic voice. _Lady, give the poor man a break here_. Her tone changed, however, as she asked, "What's your name?"

"Wagner, Kurt Wagner." Jean let him down gently, and he landed, poised to escape.

"Kurt, don't!" I called, "they're not going to hurt you!" _Please, Father, don't be letting me make a liar out of myself_.

Once Kurt lead them back to the upper level, Jean began making a failed attempt to coax Kurt to take his shirt of and let her examine his wound. "It's all right," I assured him, stroking his shoulders, "Let her help you. I'll be right here." He agreed, but it was difficult because he had trouble getting his arm over his head. I gasped slightly at the scarred markings on his chest and stomach. What demons plagued someone who would do this to themselves?

Jean treated the wound, but I knew that the process hurt. I stood at the foot of the bed; the place reserved, in legend, for guardian angels, and did my best to sooth him. He prayed, but his voice jumped with slight shocks of pain. At one point, he wrapped his tail around my wrist so hard I almost cried out, but didn't. He loosened his grip a moment later, but still didn't let go. Jean mumbled an apology to him.

"What do you remember about the attack?" Storm asked.

"There was so much shooting, such fear…and then there was only pain." He cringed, his tail tightening again. I stroked it and nodded for him to continue. "I could see it all happening, but I couldn't stop myself. It was like a bad dream," he glanced at a large crucifix, then at me, "perhaps He is testing me." His voice tore at my very soul. Both women followed his gaze.

"Shhh, don't cry," I whispered, seeing the tears in his eyes. He gave me a barely perceptible nod, and squeezed my wrist. I squeezed back gently.

"And before you were in the Whitehouse, what do you remember?"

"N…nothing; I was here…."

"Jean?" Storm asked, implying what she wanted to say.

"I'd rather get him back to the professor."

"The Professor?" Kurt asked, sounding scared. I stroked his tail again, he calmed down.

Storm gently traced the tattoos on his chest. "D…did you do these…yourself?"

"Yes," he looked at me; there was a question I couldn't read in his eyes. I didn't respond, just gave him a sad smile. He closed his eyes and sighed. It seemed to me like the bullet had penetrated more then flesh, but had wounded his very soul.

He turned away just then, rolling over on his side, tears forming in his gentle eyes. This exposed the scar on the back of his neck. I winched when I saw it, because I knew what had made it. Jean saw it too, "and what about this?" she touched it gently.

Kurt reached over and touched it; he mumbled something softly in German about 'the mark of the devil'. I tried to comfort him as a sob shook his form, reaching over to stroke his soft back. He rolled back over, his dark curls hiding the mark again, and brushed the tears from his eyes. "I did not make that one, perhaps…" he hesitated; "perhaps it is the mark of Cain, _Ja_?" both women looked at each other in confusion.

"They don't know what that is, Kurt," I told him. I wanted to say 'that's not what it is anyway', but for some reason bit my tongue against doing so. Instead I helped him to sit up and get his shirt and coat back on.

Jean extended invitation to Kurt to go with them. He contemplated that for a moment, looking to me. "It's your choice," I told him. He agreed to go. After packing what few belongings he had, he went downstairs with them. At the door, he turned, knelt to the altar, and crossed himself; I did the same. _Go before us, Father, and lead us_.


	3. Confession of Faith

This is the scene between Storm and Nightcrawler on the X-jet. Sorry it's so short.

* * *

Kurt's first reaction to the jet was shock, followed by nervousness. He had never flown before, and I could tell he would have preferred to keep it that way. I held his hand as we climbed aboard. Waiting until neither of the two women were watching, he gave me a grateful smile. We both sat in the back as Storm and Jean worked the controls. He gripped the seat with one hand, and held mine with the other; I could tell he was trying to stabilize his breathing. "It'll be okay. You feel it when you leave the ground, but after that you can't tell. Just think of it as being on the trapeze." He nodded a little, but griped my hand so tightly that it hurt. 

After take off, Kurt relaxed. I would have loved to talk with him, to get to know him better, but unfortunately we couldn't. I couldn't risk his being overheard. "We can't talk very much right now," I explained, "they can hear you, but they can't hear me, and we wouldn't want them to think you were talking to yourself."

"I'll be fine," he assured me, smiling. I noticed the rosary he was fingering gently. He caught me looking and showed it to me, with a sort of 'do you like it?' expression. I touched it gently, it was well-worn, probably from being handled and carried around.There were so many memories and prayers and hopes in those beads. They gave me a positive feeling. I drew my hand back slowly; he twined the beads around his fingers. His head lowered, and for a brief moment, I thought he was asleep, or endeavoring to become so. Then I heard the soft sound of his prayers. He prayed in a combination of German and Latin, but I understood every word. Silently, I prayed with him. It was so beautiful to listen to him, I felt my heart break and sing at the same time.

Suddenly, I broke from my reverie to see Storm coming over to speak to him. Quickly I stood and slipped around her as she sat down. It wasn't until she had sat that Kurt even noticed her. He stopped abruptly and turned shyly to face her.

Storm studied the markings on his face. "So, what are they?"

"They are angelic symbols, passed on to man by the Archangel Gabriel." He kept himself partly shrouded in shadow. He would meet her eyes for a fraction of a second, the quickly look away. I stood in the aisle beside him, a silent guardian.

"They're beautiful," she responded, I smiled, "how many do you have?"

"One for every sin," he smiled ever so slightly, "so quite a few." I smiled, yet shook my head. He paused, then glanced toward the cockpit, "you, and Miss Gray, are schoolteachers?" he sounded as though he didn't believe it.

"Yes, at a school for people like us, where we can be safe."

"Safe from what?"

"Everyone else."

"You shouldn't have to be," I muttered. Kurt didn't hear me; his attention was focused one hundred percent on Storm.

"Outside of the circus, people were afraid of me. But I did not hate them, I pitied them. Do you know why?" she shook her head, her eyes wide with a mix of awe and concern. "Because most people will never know anything beyond what they see with their own two eyes."

My smile broadened, even as my already broken heart was shattered once more by his words. He pulled my soul in two directions. One was lifted and illuminated by his beautiful spirit, the other wept for him, for the pain evident in his voice and that could be seen behind his eyes. I touched his shoulder gently, but he did not even seem aware of my presence.

"Well, I gave up on pity a long time ago," Storm said angrily. I jumped at the hardness, like steel, in her voice. Some part of me wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her, while another wanted to embrace and console her. In the end, I rooted myself to the floor. After all, Kurt, not Storm, was under my care.

Kurt stared at her, there was pain in his eyes, but this time it was different. He was hurting for her. He placed one hand ever so gently against her cheek "someone so beautiful, should not be so angry," he told her softly, a graceful, simple statement of faith.

She didn't break his gaze, "sometimes anger can help you survive," she replied. She didn't sound as if she completely believed it anymore.

"So can faith."

The words hung in the air around me like smoke. He seemed a man without anger, or resentment, or any negative emotion at all, save pain. His faith was so pure, that I felt humbled by it. It seemed to me that he should have been teaching me about faith, not I, him.

It was then the Jean's voice cut in on the three of us, "Storm! I found an active com unit!"

Her eyes left his only for a moment as she glanced towards her friend, "where?"


	4. Others

Sorry it's short, new chapter to follow shortly.

* * *

As it turned out, we were flying back to Boston. I crept up to the cockpit and listened for a while, bristling with a combination of fear and disgust.

"Soldiers came," Logan reported, I cringed.

"What about the children?" Storm demanded. _Yes, what?_

"Some of them escaped, I'm…not sure about the rest." I glanced heavenward, in a quick, silent prayer; then slipped back to Kurt's side.

He was staring into space, handling his rosary idly; I felt he was reflecting on what had just passed between himself and Storm. "Kurt?"

"Guten Tag, Victoria," he greeted me in a whisper.

I wanted to tell him several things; part of what was stopping me was that some of them were not my place to say. "I…I…" I hung my head "am not very good at speaking right now." Kurt chuckled softly. "What you said to Ororo, Kurt, it was so very true. Few humans can understand things the way you can." That wasn't what I had wanted to say. I wanted to tell him he broke my heart, yet at the same time he raised it to where it had never been and could never fall again.

I smiled as I sat beside him and placed a hand on his wrist. "You look…lost," I continued.

"I am not sure about anything anymore, including God. I _feel_ lost."

"Don't worry. Remember: when the going seems uphill, just think of the view you'll have from the top."

He smiled and nodded, "_Ja_, thank-you."

"My pleasure."

"Victoria, if I may…"

"Absolutely."

"You are so young."

I smiled at him, "I guess I look young, don't I? I'm as old as any angel."

"How old is that?"

"I don't know; we came to be before time began." I glanced down at myself, the perfect size of seventeen year old girl, black hair and bright blue eyes; clad in blue jeans and white T-shirt. Somehow, looking as regular as anybody else makes people trust me more. "I guess my physical youth makes me more approachable."

"Kurt, buckle up!" Storm called from the front. He took one of the seats behind the cockpit, and fastened the restraints. I crouched next to him, holding onto the back of the seat. I had worked with less information to go on, so why did I feel like I was flying blind?

We landed, quickly, on the front lawn of Bobby Drake's home. Trees, shrubs, and police cars were burning everywhere. There were a number of singed, panicked-looking police officers as well. To my relief, I saw several fellow angels amidst all this wreckage, including one standing behind the Drake family, arms spread to embrace them, as they watched from an upstairs window. I nodded to him, and he smiled back. A couple of the ones on the ground waved, I waved back, and Kurt looked at me as if I had lost my mind. He started to get up but I shook my head. I didn't want him to see this. Fortunately, it didn't seem anyone was badly injured.

The ramp lowered, and Pyro was the first to board. I was angry that he showed no emotion for what I knew he had just done. Kurt turned to face him and the others entering behind him. "Whoa," Pyro exclaimed, taking in Kurt's appearance. Rogue and Bobby stared too, in silence. I gripped Kurt's hand.

"Guten tag," Kurt greeted warmly, but I heard a waver in his voice.

Logan pushed past, "who the hell is this?"

"My name is Kurt Wagner, but with the Munich Circus, I was known as the 'Incredible Nightcrawler'." Kurt rattled off with his dramatic air, beaming proudly. I laughed softly, and he squeezed my hand.

"Aw, save it. Storm..."

"We're outta here," Storm agreed.

Kurt looked hurt, and concerned about the way Logan had treated him. He glanced at me for a cue. I smiled warmly, "its okay, Kurt. Logan isn't the easiest person to be friendly with. And he's not having the best day." He nodded.

"He looks like the kind of man who truly needs an angel," he whispered so softly I could barely hear him.

I looked at Logan; he'd never been one of mine. But there was thousands, maybe millions of angels with the same job as mine. I would ask around if any other angels knew about him when I got home. That thought saddened me, I had known Kurt only for a few hours, but I was forming a deep friendship. He was something special. _Note to self: get him on the list for permanent angelic guardian applicants. _

There was a brief, more formal introduction between Kurt and the recent arrivals. His explanation of his powers made even Logan raise his eyebrows. I held his hand firmly, his grip on mine never relinquished for a moment.

After a minute or two of silence, Logan stood and moved into the cockpit, "how far are we?"

"We're coming up on the mansion now," Jean replied.

Suddenly I felt a shock of cold terror that ran through my entire form, as I saw, in my minds eye, what was about to happen, only a few seconds, but enough. "Oh, Father." I whispered; my head whipping over my shoulder, as a voice crackled in over the radio.


	5. Falling From the Sky

"Unidentified aircraft, you are ordered to descend to twenty-thousand feet. Return with our escort to Hanscom Air force Base. You have ten seconds to comply." The voice left no room for argument, unless, of course, you were one of this group.

"Wow, somebody's angry," Storm remarked; her gaze flitting nervously over her shoulder towards Logan, indicating that she was waiting for him to explain.

"I wonder why," Logan growled, glaring at John. I glared at him too, my jaw set firm.

"We are coming up alongside you to escort you to Hanscom air force base, lower your altitude now," we were commanded once again. Neither Jean nor Storm complied. "Repeat: lower your altitude to twenty thousand feet. This is your last warning."

"They're falling back," Storm observed nervously, and then a moment later, "They're marking us." _When they say 'last warning' they really mean it._

"What!" Logan demanded.

"They're going to fire," Storm said, almost to herself, then to everyone, "Hold on!" Logan threw himself into his seat and grabbed for his harness. I saw Rogue struggling with hers. She'd never get it on in time, but I was powerless to help her. The only one here I could aid or advise was Nightcrawler. God, humans, or other angels had to do the rest.

Kurt crossed himself, and began to pray again. I prayed with him, gripping the seat hard with one arm, holding his hand with the other to comfort him.

"I gotta shake them!" Storm announced, sounding panicked. She maneuvered into a barrel-roll, we flipped and tossed. I gripped Kurt's seat until my fingers hurt.

"Please don't do that again," Pyro pleaded, his eyes fixed dead ahead in a 'my life just flashed before my eyes' stare.

"I agree," Logan determined. _Miracles do happen_, I thought to myself.

We continued to swerve drastically. Storm kept the acrobatics to a minimum, however. I knew it wasn't enough. I knew what those jets were capable of, they could make every move we could, and, probably, then some. We needed to hit back this time, because running away wouldn't work.

"Do we have any weapons in this heap?" Logan demanded, echoing my thoughts.

Storm didn't reply, but her eyes clouded over, and she tipped her head to one side. Instantly the sky filled with dark, inky black clouds. From these came at least a dozen large tornados. Then I realized technically they were funnel clouds. Storm had such fine motor control that she kept the clouds from ever touching down, so no one on the ground would be hurt. One of the pilots had to eject from his plane. _Oh, God, let him be all right._ I closed my eyes. For a brief moment, in my mind's eye, I saw him parachuting safely down.

We were still rolling and twisting, as Jean steered us around Storm's crazy weather. Kurt squeezed my hand. "It'll be okay," I tried to reassure him; "I'm still the only one here, so nobody's going to die." It was then, looking around, I realized that Rogue still hadn't fastened her harness. She held the straps tightly in her fists, but that would never hold if it needed to.

The second pilot also had to eject, and I briefly saw him, too, parachuting to safety. But I knew what had happen first, that there were now two missiles heading strait for us. Storm and Jean didn't know, however, and it was outside my powers to tell them. I leaned into Kurt and whispered, "Brace yourself." He glanced at me nervously, and pushed himself against the back of his seat. I didn't know when we would be hit, just that we would be. I also had the impression no one would die today; angel's intuition.

"Everybody okay back there?" Storm inquired. The clouds and tornados disappeared as quickly as they had formed. Kurt looked at me, as if to say _should I tell her we're still in trouble?_ I shook my head, there was no way of his explaining how he knew, and if they found out about me, my time with him ended there, and I wound up in hot water.

"No," Logan grumbled, causing both Kurt and I to briefly smile.

It was then that the radar started to beep. Storm and Jean looked at it in unison with matching horrified expressions. I half- stood, and wrapped an arm around Kurt, to hold him into his seat. "Oh my God," Storm exclaimed, "There's two of 'em!" the panic in her voice was natural, she couldn't have lost those missiles unless she could have teleported the entire jet, and I knew Kurt couldn't do something like that.

I sensed the power emanating form Jean as she tried to force one of the missiles off track. I bit my lip hard. She winched as if she'd been hit, then relaxed a tiny bit. She'd done it. In the back of my mind, I saw the missile wobble like crazy, and then explode. But we still had one more tailing us, and I knew it was going to hit. Jean tried, forcing every bit of her strength into it.

"There's one more," Storm said worriedly, "Jean?" there was an ominous _can you do it_ tone to her words.

Jean threw telekinetic hit after hit, each one caused her to jolt so hard she looked as though she were convulsing. Kurt wrapped his tail around my waist, and continued to pray desperately. "Oh," Jean breathed, "Oh, God." I held Kurt tight and braced myself.

The missile grazed us, splitting a large section of the roof open like aluminum foil. Rogue stayed in her seat all of a heartbeat before the powerful suction of the punctured vacuum sucked her our. She screamed in pure terror.

"Rogue!" Bobby screamed, trying to grab her.

"No!" Logan's cry joined his.

"Kurt!" I exclaimed, "Teleport! Go get the girl!" he looked at me with fear in his eyes, I could read what he was thinking: _I can't!_

"You can," I practically screamed, "I know you can!" He hesitated a moment longer, then he was gone in a cloud of smoke.

Only seconds later he was back, with Rogue in a bear hug. He hit the floor on his back, tail and legs managing, somehow, to keep him rooted down. Rogue was sobbing against his chest. I knelt beside him, I knew he wouldn't have heard me if I spoke to him, so I just held his shoulder, and joined his prayers.

We were nose-diving straight down into a large coniferous forest, if we hit, no one would survive. Jean looked at Logan in a 'goodbye' style. Kurt was praying for the others, that they might live, and wrapped around Rogue as if to try and shield her as best he could.

It was then that I saw, once again in my mind, an older man, and a blue-skinned young woman, they were standing in the forest, watching us literally fall from the sky. Somehow I knew they could help us, but they had to make that choice. Though they could never have heard me, for more than one reason, I found myself begging them aloud to help. My prayers were answered as I saw the hole in the jet begin to close on its own, like a healing wound, only at super-speed. We began to slow gently, leveling out gradually as we did so.

"Jean?" Storm gasped.

"It's not me!" Jean gasped back, her voice a combination or horror and awe. She was rattling around in her seat, having no strength to hold herself in place.

Then, we stopped. There's no other way to describe it, we simply stopped dead. But we hadn't hit. We were suspended in mid air, and good ten to fifteen meters off the ground, dangling over the treetops. Everyone pitched forward against their restraints. I managed to catch Kurt before he and Rogue fell forward. Slowly he released Rogue and they both sat up. I slid an arm under him to gently ease him upright.

I stood, and looked out the window. The older man and his female, naked, companion, stood very calmly together on the ground. Ironically, it was their emotionless expressions that seemed the most out of place. He had one hand extended towards us, and was, I presumed, holding us in place with it. I didn't much care at that precise moment how he kept us up, so long as we stayed up. But still, he looked as if catching falling planes right out of the sky was something he did on a regular basis.

He turned to his companion, "When will these people learn how to fly?" they both laughed. But hearing his voice put a sliver of ice in my stomach.


	6. Mystique

Hello, everyone who has been waiting for me to update this fic! Sorry it took so long. A short chapter, yes, but hopefully, quickly followed by another. This was the only natural stopping point before it got too long.

Please R&R

* * *

He let us down gently, and I watched as Rogue, Bobby, and Pyro went streaking for the ground. Kurt and I hung back to ensure Jean was okay. She was weak from the effort she'd put out. Logan had to help her limp off the jet. Once they reached the ground safely, I broke away and approached her. I didn't much care about the rules right then, Jean needed this. I'm not an archangel, but we all have our gifts, one of mine happens to be the ability to cause humans to fall asleep. A byproduct of this is that they always have pleasant dreams when their sleep is my doing. I felt that was what Jean needed right then. I touched her gently, "Sleep, Jean." She crumpled and Logan nearly dropped her. In sleep, her face became peaceful. I returned to Kurt's side, glancing back at her.

"What did you _do_ to her?"

"I put her to sleep, she needed it. She'll wake up feeling better, I hope."

"You cannot simply give her strength?"

"That comes from God," I reminded him.

He dropped his eyes, "If I have offended you, I am sorry."

"You didn't," I assured him, "I wish I could help everyone, but my influence is limited solely to you. I can help you, no one else."

He frowned, "But Miss Gray…"

"Angels break the rules too," I joked. "But putting someone who is almost unconscious to sleep, ensuring sweet dreams in the doing so, shouldn't get me into _too_ much trouble."

"I would not want you getting into any kind of trouble on my account," he told me. I knew by that he meant that, no matter what, if it broke the rules, I was not to interfere on his behalf.

"Let us hope I have no occasion to," I replied steadily. And then, "Come on, lets help set up camp."

It turned out that camp was, at the moment, a campfire for the adults, and Rogue, Bobby, and Pyro wandering around. Kurt and I found a place where we could see the campfire, but we were far enough away as so not to be spotted or overheard. Kurt's attention was focused on the group, and, I could tell on Mystique.

"You look like her," I pointed out.

"_Ja_," he said thoughtfully, "Is there a reason?"

"I don't know," I confessed, "And even if I did, I wouldn't be able to tell you. That's outside what I am allowed to influence, unless that was specifically what I was here to do."

"I keep wanting to believe she is my sister, or even my mother." He cast his gaze downward.

"There's nothing wrong with that." I wrapped an arm around his shoulders, "You never knew your birth mother."

His first reaction was along the lines of 'how do you know that?', but he figured it out before even saying anything and sighed. "I can understand why she would not have wanted me, but I wish she had…" he trailed off. "She is a mutant?" he asked, referring to Mystique.

"Yes, a metamorph." He raised an eyebrow, I realized he didn't understand what that meant, "Oh, sorry, it means she can shape-shift. She can look like anybody, even imitate their voice. That's how she really looks."

He looked over at her again, "I would like to speak to her."

"Maybe you'll get the chance."

I was staring at Jean; she had stayed asleep all of twenty minutes before shooting back awake. Storm and Kurt, and I, had been watching over her as she slept. When she woke she admitted it was the best sleep she'd had in weeks, and the only not plagued by nightmares. Kurt and exchanged quiet smiles, but he said nothing.

Just then, Rogue emerged from the shadows, I signaled Kurt to be quiet, then cautiously moved back a bit. Rogue crouched beside him. Kurt looked at her, nodded, and turned away quickly. "Thank-you," Rogue told him softly.

"_Bitte schon_," Kurt replied, which I knew translated to something along the lines of 'you're welcome'. He looked intently back at the group.

Rogue followed his gaze, "Can you hear what they're saying?"

Kurt turned back to her, a devilish smile playing at the corners of his mouth, "I could take a closer look," he offered.

"Not without me," I informed him, wrapping my arms around him from behind as he teleported. After I let go and floated along, as he swung to a sturdy branch over the campfire. I floated beside him, he wrapped his tail around the branch, hung comfortably upside down, arms folded over his chest, and listened intently.


	7. Only Human

Ipromised another chapter! This chapter contains my personal view on Mystique, which I will let you determine for yourselves.

Please R&R

* * *

We stayed there for several minutes, both Kurt and I were drinking in everything from the conversation we could. I knew what had happened to Kurt before we met. In fact, I had been witness to most of it. I could see in Kurt's eyes that as Magneto talked, he was making connections between his involuntary attack on the President, his memory loss, everything, in his mind.

"The Professor already tried," Logan snarled in response to one of Magneto's remarks. It was very easy to envision him impaling the old man against a tree with his claws.

"Once again, you think its all about you," Magneto replied in a voice a parent might use to reprimand a disobedient child. He looked up, craning his neck dramatically, causing the other's to follow his gaze, to us.

"Oh," Kurt said, lacking for any other immediate response, "Hello." He waved slightly and curved his torso upwards, cringing at being caught.

"Just go apologize," I suggested, "Maybe you can help." He sighed heavily.

Kurt flipped himself backwards and dropped to the ground with all the talent of the acrobat he was. I landed beside him. Kurt approached the group, eyes cast downward. Jean motioned him closer, and he obediently stepped over to her.

"I did not mean to snoop," he said as a means of apology.

"Just try and relax," Jean advised, placing her hands on either side of his face. I took his hand, and he gripped mine tightly.

Jean closed her eyes; I knew she was probing his mind for any information. Kurt's eyelids fluttered, his gaze fixed heavenward. Suddenly they both winched simultaneously. Kurt gasped, jerking involuntarily. Jean pulled her hands back, breaking her contact. They were both breathing hard; Kurt looked unsteady on his feet.

"I'm sorry," Jean told him. He nodded as best he could. Jean blinked, trying to sort the information she'd just gathered into order. "Stryker's at Alkali Lake," she informed the group, sounding as if the information didn't make any sense.

"That's where the Professor sent me, there's nothing left," Logan argued.

I saw the light in Jean's eyes come on as the pieces fell into place. "There's nothing left on the surface Logan," she corrected him, "The base is underground."

This led to Magneto interrogating Logan on everything he knew and had seen at the surface base. He asked a good dozen times if there was any chance anyone had seen him. Logan gave him the best he could do for exact locations. Jean filled in holes wit bits and pieces of what she'd extracted from Kurt's mind.

Kurt and I stood in the shadows and watched this unfold. Then I noticed Mystique had wandered off slightly from the group. She was far enough away that she more then likely could not hear what they were saying and they wouldn't notice her. I followed her gaze and saw that she was eyeing Logan, but I couldn't quite seem to read her expression.

I nudged Kurt gently, "This is probably the best chance you'll get to talk to Mystique," I advised, motioning in her direction.

"Do you think she will talk to me?" he whispered back.

"You never know until you try," I responded, sounding more enthusiastic than I really was, there was something about Magneto and Mystique that set my nerves on edge.

Kurt and I approached Mystique quietly, she wasn't even aware of us, or she hid it well. Her gaze never wavered from the group. "Do you want me to leave you alone?" I asked Kurt softly. He shook his head and griped my hand as an indication he wanted me to stay.

"Excuse me?" Kurt said softly, in his usual mild-mannered tone. Mystique turned to us, looked at him for a brief moment, eyes cold and emotionless, and turned back to the group. "They say you can imitate anybody, even their voice," Kurt pressed.

"Even their voice," Mystique mimicked, her voice a perfect match to Kurt's, but there was something hollow behind the words, like a distant echo. Probably one of those things only an angel can notice.

"Then why not stay in disguise all the time?" Kurt took a step closer, nodding towards the group, "You know, look like everyone else?"

"Because we shouldn't have to," Mystique replied evenly, in her own voice, which sounded like a collection of varying voices. I noticed something in her voice, a suppressed sadness, like a recollection of a painful memory or a long-broken heart that had been forced to bleed once more. Not knowing if Kurt had noticed, I kept my observations to myself. The group around the fire had disbanded, and she walked in the direction Logan had taken. Her movements so smooth, it was hard to believe she was walking, not floating. Kurt swished his tail thoughtfully in a wide circle.

"Do…do you suppose I offended her?"

"I don't think so; I think she's just like that, anti-social, she's probably learned to erect barriers." I knew he would understand what I meant. He had needed to learn some of the same things. He nodded thoughtfully, still staring after her. "Kurt, come on, we have a tent to set up."

As we left toward where camp was being constructed, I replayed Mystique's words in my mind. Carefully, I listened to her tone, the way she had spoken. I also tried to figure out if there had been any emotional indication on her face I might have not noticed due to the shadows, and the fact that she wasn't facing me. Mystique's features were firmly set in a mask of indifference. But I felt, no, I knew, that she felt strongly about something. Somewhere beneath her skin, an old hurt lingered. Despite my concerns, I couldn't help but feel sorry for her. After all, even Mystique was only human.


	8. Heaven and Earth

My Pirates of the Caribbean fic had a scene similar to this that everyone said they liked, so I am making an attempt to conduct a one-on-one scene with Nightcrawler. I apologize in advance to anyone offended my depictions of Heaven.

The lyrics at the end are from the Depeche Mode song "Precious"

Enjoy, please R&R

* * *

Kurt did fine with the tent's larger components, but his fingers, which were thicker than those of the average person found it impossible to do some of the finer work. I gladly did that, having him stand guard so that no one would see parts of the tent moving by themselves. 

We did get it up, after twenty minutes of struggle. "Sorry I'm not more help," I apologized. He shook his head dismissively.

"Today must feel so alien to you, Kurt," I noticed gently, sitting opposite from him inside the tent.

He cocked his head to one side, "Alien?"

"Strange."

"Ah, _ja_, today has been so very strange," he yawned, "And tiring."

"I'll let you get to sleep then."

"No, this may be the only chance we have to talk; I do not want to pass it up."

I smiled and nodded, Kurt ran his rosary through his fingers absently, smiling shyly at me. Finally a thought popped into my mind, "Storm – Ororo, she was so kind to you," I prompted, curious to see how he would react, and how much of his soul he was willing to bare to me.

"_Ja_, she is a…a…" he frowned, "I cannot think of the proper English word."

"What is it in German?"

"_Lieblich_"

"Sweet? You mean she's a sweetheart."

"_Ja_, _ja_! A sweetheart!"

I felt my own smile broaden, "She is indeed; this poor world needs people like her."

He didn't hear me; he was a million miles away, lost in what I presumed to be a memory of this afternoon on the jet, the soft smile that played on his face made him look angelic. "Kurt?"

"I am sorry, my mind was wandering."

"I agreed with you. She's a good person. Someone to watch over you after I have to leave."

His face fell slightly, "I wish you did not have to leave me."

I felt my heart sink with guilt, I lowered my eyes. "Me too, Kurt, but we have a few days together."

"Must be hard, to say goodbye to so many people."

"Every goodbye is followed by another hello."

He thought that over for a few seconds, I could tell he was applying that to his own life. Finally his smile returned, "I like that."

I shrugged one shoulder casually, "If angels didn't think like that, we'd all be heartbroken."

Kurt nodded, "Are all angels alike?"

I shook my head, "Far from, angels are as different in personality as humans."

"Except for the evil parts, angels cannot be evil." His almost childlike faith surfaced in the statement.

"They cannot be evil and remain angels," I corrected, "And some chose the darker path."

Kurt seemed eager to change the subject, I was glad, many people are fascinated by the concept of evil, but angels hate having to discuss it, "Heaven," Kurt asked me, "What is it like?"

I felt myself smile again, glad to lighten the mood, "Beautiful; absolutely beautiful. It never gets cold, it never gets dark, and appearance of the heart is reflected, which is a fancy way to say everyone's appearance is proportioned to the beauty of their souls. You'll love it, Kurt."

That made him smile, "I am to go to Heaven?"

"So far, so good," I teased gently.

Suddenly, Kurt's face fell and his shoulders slumped. "I do not think that I deserve it."

I winched, that hurt. To an angel, for any human to say things like that about themselves is painful. "Of course you do, Kurt."

"But with the things I have done…." He thought for a second, and then looked at me quizzically, "Why does God allow things like this to happen, Victoria?"

_Why must everyone ask me questions like this?_ I mentally screamed. But I felt sorry for him; he had good reason for his faith to waiver. I leaned forward to rest a hand on his shoulder. "I don't know, Kurt. His plans go far beyond what you or I could ever imagine."

He nodded, no doubt realizing that my answer was well-practiced from constant use, "So, he is not angry with me for what I did?"

"It wasn't your fault, Kurt. I know, your Father knows." I used a very personal term, to show Kurt that he was far from being forsaken. "And He knows your grief for what happened." He didn't respond, and I knew that I wasn't helping. I still wince at what I said next, "When you were in the Whitehouse, Kurt, there was an angel with you, and with the President."

"W…was it you?"

"No," I admitted, "But I saw what happened." His eyes dropped in shame. "You tried to stop. I know." He nodded to me, but I saw the tear that was tracing a pattern down his cheek. _Brilliant, 'Victoria'. _

Then I had a sudden idea, "Kurt, how much faith do you think an angel has?"

He could tell that there was a very specific answer to this question, and thought for several minutes before answering, "I do not know, I would think more than any human."

I shook my head, "No, none at all. Angels don't have faith. Faith is believing. But I don't believe, Kurt, I know. I know because I've seen God." I took his hands, "So I can tell you, truthfully, that your faith is not misplaced. And that God loves you, and will always be with you." I could feel tears burning in my eyes, and see the ones forming in his. I let his hands go.

"Thank-you, Victoria."

"My pleasure, Kurt, as always."

Kurt was eager to learn more about Heaven, and obviously, the Host, "Are there different kinds of angels? I mean, aside from personality?"

"Yes, angels of different ranks and in different areas. Some teach, some keep order, some organize worship, then you have angels like me who work in the departments. Like a human business. I'm a TAG, or temporary angelic guardian. I used to be in Historical Documentation."

"What is that?"

"It's angels who keep a documented record of everything that happens in Heaven and on Earth. I worked with the latter. I witnessed events and wrote out reports. I left because I wanted to work more with humans, not just write about them."

"Are you important?"

I paused, "Uhhh…no one's ever asked me that before. The Host, especially in the lower ranks, such as mine, functions more as a whole with many parts. Angels don't quite grasp the human concept of individuality. I'm a part of the whole, certainly, I would guess that each angel like me is of some importance. But I'm of lowest rank, if that's what you're asking. The Nameless Angels."

"You are nameless because you function together as one whole, you do not tell each other apart?"

"You got it!" I exclaimed, "You are good, Kurt. Most humans don't understand that."

"If we mere humans could learn to do the same," Kurt said, grinning, "such events as these would not occur,_ Ja_?"

"And I wouldn't have a job," I joked in return.

He yawned again, shooting me an embarrassed glance. "It's late, you're tired, and I feel that tomorrow will be a very hectic day," I observed, "You had best sleep."

"Do you sleep?" he asked me curiously.

"I think tonight, I just might." His expression said he didn't quite understand, "Angels don't need to sleep," I told him, "But sometimes we need to dream. They send us information through dreams, so I can know what will happen tomorrow and be prepared for it, or know what has happened and how I can help to repair the damage."

He simply nodded, I had dumped a lot of information on him, and he was probably trying to sort it all out. Finally he shifted from a cross-legged position to a kneeling position, rosary hanging from his clasped hands. He bowed his head; eyes closed, and began to pray. I knelt as well, praying with him. He paused a second and looked at me. I smiled and nodded for him to go on, he continued, and I felt something, like a warmth, radiate from him. A happy feeling human souls give off when they're at peace. For Nightcrawler, I knew being at peace was something that did not happen often.

Kurt wriggled out of his shirt with some difficultly from his wounded arm and crawled into the sleeping bag Storm had given him. I sat beside him, humming a psalm known only to the angels. Kurt gave me a grateful, yet weary, smile.

I couldn't help but gently rest my fingertips against one of the markings over his collarbone. "These must have been so painful."

"That was the idea," he reminded me. "I have already been given one to atone for what I did," he added motioning to the bullet wound, still smiling, but it was a sad smile, and one very much filled with pain. I managed to smile back. Kurt closed his eyes. I could tell he was exhausted. "Good night, Victoria."

"_Guten Nacht_, _Kurt_."

I lay down myself, staring into the darkness. I closed my eyes, and before I fell asleep the last thing I thought of were the lyrics of a song I had once heard.

_If God has a master plan  
_

_That only He understands  
_

_I hope it's your eyes He's seeing through._


	9. Nightmares

This is 599 words that lend absolutly nothing to the story, but that I felt had a right to be included. (Those words do not include this intro)

* * *

That night I was plagued with 'nightmares'. I saw what had occurred in the Whitehouse, but it was through Kurt's eyes. They do that, so we better understand what out assignments are going through. I could feel all the terror and pain that racked him. And, like him, I had no idea what was going on. Disjointed bits and fragments of thought invaded my mind, I tried desperately to stop, but my body wouldn't listen to me. I felt the impact of the bodies on the receiving end of my punches and kicks. I saw the face of the man I was trying to kill as he stared up at me, terrified. Then a pain in my shoulder that immediately spread to my entire arm, causing my vision to clear…. 

I woke and shot straight up to a sitting position. Kurt had been kneeling beside me, and leapt backwards as I shot upright. "Victoria? Are you all right?"

I must have cried out, or made some noise that had woken him. That, or he had woken before me, and seen me reacting physically to the dream-world. "I was dreaming," I responded. I explained to him that I had been seeing the Whitehouse attack through his eyes. "That was so I know what it was like for you. It causes me to understand. I feel what you felt: fear, pain, anything."

"But for you," he whispered, "It _was_ a bad dream. You can wake up."

"Yes," I admitted, "I can, can't I?"

Kurt lay back down. He was laying on his side, his back to me. I moved over beside him. Even in the dark I could see the tears in his eyes. I knew how desperately he wished it was all a dream. That morning would come and none of this would ever have happened. "I'm sorry," I told him, "I shouldn't have…"

"_Nien_, I had no right to accuse you."

"It wasn't an accusation, and it was true. I was proud, and stupid, to think I could possibly know how you feel."

He turned to look at me; I could see that he was trying to determine how to respond. "I'm sorry I woke you," I said before he could finish figuring it out. "Go back to sleep. It'll be morning before you know it."

"You are sure you do not want me to stay awake with you?" he sounded hopeful.

"You've been dreaming too."

"Nightmares, _ja_."

"Would you like me to put you to sleep?"

"If it will help, _bitte_."

I rested one hand gently on his arm, "Sleep, Kurt." He fell asleep instantly. His features relaxed, he would only have good dreams until he awoke.

Myself, I decided not to go back to sleep. I knew some of what would happen tomorrow, it was enough. It was vain and selfish, but I didn't want to dream if I didn't have to. I tried to ease my conscience by telling myself that if he woke before dawn I could put him back to sleep, and also that if I had woken him once, I would again. This was a flimsy reason at best, but I used it anyway.

Kurt slept peacefully, occasionally murmuring in his sleep. I sat in the darkness and watched silently. I could feel the shame that burned my face whenever my thoughts drifted back to the words spoken between us. I knew what had happened, but I didn't know how it felt. How he lived with the grief that plagued him. _Forgive me_, I pleaded silently, but I'm not sure who that was addressed to.


	10. Concerned

The part wth Jean is something I invented, it's not a part of hte movie, movie novel, or any other movie adaptation I know of.

Please Enjoy.

* * *

Kurt slept the rest of the way through the night, thankfully. I didn't want to wake him any earlier than was necessary, so I waited until I heard someone moving outside. The first voice I heard was, unfortunately, Magneto's. He was very close. This was slightly curious because Kurt had pitched our tent a little ways form the others, I could tell it had become his very nature to withdraw.

Even though I recognized the voice, mainly through the rich accent it carried, I could not quite understand the words being spoken. The pauses suggested that he was talking to someone. After a moment, the voice began to grow louder, and, soon, I could hear Mystique's voice accompanying his.

"You know what to do?" Magneto asked.

"Of course, Eric," Mystique purred.

"What about the boy?"

"What boy?" Mystique asked, her tone was still light, even slightly flirtious, but I could hear a slight worried note in her voice.

Magneto's voice, previously pleasant, became hard and cold as ice. "You know 'what boy'. You saw him. I even saw you talking to him."

My eyes shot to Kurt, was he the 'boy' Magneto meant? Kurt was young enough to still be a boy in Magneto's eyes.

"He's more curious than suspicious, and no matter what he might suspect, what can he do? His friends won't do anything, especially since they need us so much. Without us they have no hope of getting Charles back."

"You had better be right."

"Eric, I'm always right." They both laughed as if they were sharing some private joke. I felt my pulse race. Those two were not here to help; they were using the X-Men to achieve some goal that was anything but pure. The fact that they were out to prevent the murder of every mutant on the planet was not out of the kindness of their hearts. In fact, Magneto was a special case who could even be classified by an angel as 'heartless'.

When their voices had faded to the point I could no longer hear them, I crept to Nightcrawler's side. His peaceful smile almost seemed out of place in the tension that had wrapped around me like a heavy fog. For that reason I didn't want to wake him. I forced myself to center my thoughts and force my suspicions back. The only evidence to prove them was gut instinct, and, though angels are trained to listen to their intuition, I didn't want to preconceive any notions.

I gently shook Kurt's uninjured shoulder. His forehead creased slightly, and he made a slight groan of disappointment at being woken. "I hate to wake you, Kurt," I apologized, "But its morning."

Kurt groaned again, this time in pain as he attempted to roll over and rolled onto his injured arm. He sat up slowly, cradling his bad arm with the other. "_Guten Morgan_, Victoria. It is dawn already?"

"Unfortunately"

"The others?"

"I think they're awake. I heard someone talking a few minutes ago." I purposely left out who I had heard talking.

"Are the children all right?"

"Rogue Bobby and John? I would think so."

Kurt pulled his shirt on in a hurry and scrambled out of the tent. I knew he was fearful that something might have happened to anyone here.

We found the other adults preparing a quick breakfast, and the teens still asleep. Storm had convinced Wolverine to let them sleep as long as possible, which Logan was not pleased with. Kurt shuffled towards Storm, hands in his pockets, looking sheepish, which I knew was because he knew he would not be much help. Storm saw him and smiled, "Good Morning, Nightcrawler."

"_Guten Morgan_," Kurt responded, "You are…well?"

"Still tired, but nothing compared to Jean. I don't think she slept last night, but she managed to fix the plane."

"Where is she?"

"Dunno, I think she went to try and sleep before we leave."

Jean was dozing on the Blackbird. Kurt rested a hand on her shoulder, "_Dokter_ Grey?"

Jean groaned and opened her eyes, "Yes?"

"Are you all right?"

"I would be better off with uninterrupted sleep."

Nightcrawler's hand came back as if it were on a spring, "M…my deepest apologies. Please forgive me."

Jean shook her head, "Time?"

"Dawn," was the best Kurt could offer.

"Shit," Jean grumbled, pulling herself out of her seat, and heading stiffly for the ramp, stretching as she went.

Kurt caught her and offered her his hand, "May I help you?'

"I'm fine," Jean replied, not even pausing. I stepped back, out of her way. It would hard to explain crashing into an invisible, yet solid, body. As she brushed past me, a cold sensation made me shiver. I didn't shiver with cold so much as with fear. Jean was carrying with her an aura of death; not even all angels believe humans can 'carry their deaths on their backs', but once you sense this aura, you believe. A death aura is usually carried by the suicidal, but sometimes humans do know they're going to die, even subconsciously. This hangs a dark 'shroud' over the soul, something angels detect. It's not a visible aura, but it does radiate.

I watched as Jean walked away, lost in my own inner contemplations until Kurt rested a hand on my arm. I looked up, meeting his worried eyes. "Don't worry, Kurt," I tried to reassure him, "She wants everyone to see that she's strong, not to think that she has any weaknesses."

Kurt nodded; I could see he was feeling guilty about waking Jean. Then, without replying, he began heading off in the direction she had taken, I followed him silently.

Kurt declined anything to eat, he wandered a little ways away from the group, crouching comfortably, and sufficed to watch from a distance. Occasionally, one of the others would glance over at him. If Kurt noticed, he'd catch they're eyes, as if to ask if he was needed, and they'd look away. After Rogue did just that, Kurt gave a soft sigh, and closed his eyes. "Even they are afraid of me", he whispered to me.

"I don't think so, Kurt. They're not used to you, and they're used to having to be suspicious around strangers. They hide their gifts, because of what others have done to them because of those gifts."

"That I understand," Kurt whispered. I reflected on Kurt's words to Mystique last night, _"you know, look like everyone else?"_ It broke my heart to think what he really meant:_ look like normal people_. The group was disbanding; Kurt rose smoothly to his feet, and moved back toward the group.

Once we were aboard the blackbird, Kurt took his seat, fastening his harness. I knew he wasn't about to take his chances, after his first flight yesterday. I rested one hand on the back of his seat as the others took theirs. The X-Men had donned their uniforms, which caused Nightcrawler to raise his eyebrows. He kept his mouth shut, though. Rogue and Bobby were asking Wolverine why they didn't have their own uniforms, "They're on back order," Logan growled, "Should arrive in a few years." I couldn't help but giggle slightly.

Bobby and Rogue were heading for their seats, when a burst of laughter from Magneto and Mystique caught their attention, and mine. "We love what you've done with your hair," Magneto told Rouge.

I cocked my head in confusion. But Rogue's anger simmered off her in waves. She reached for one of her gloves and began to remove it. Bobby caught her by the shoulders. "Hey, hey! Come on, let's go" He led Rogue away. What he was really trying to tell her was 'it's not worth it'. Mystique grinned wickedly as Rogue turned her back on them. But I thought that her smile looked somewhat forced.

I got a sudden flash of information, like a high-speed movie in the back of my mind, which told me Rogue's history with Mystique and Magneto. I clenched my teeth, so as not to say anything. It wouldn't have mattered to them, but it would've defiantly confused, if not frightened, Nightcrawler.

Pyro was flicking his lighter open and closed; eventually he paused and looked over at Magneto. "So, they say you're the bad guy."

_Interesting conversation starter_, I thought. Kurt was praying, and not noticing me, so I slipped away from him to where I could hear better.

"Is that what they say?" Magneto responded, sounding half-amused.

I listened to the conversation shared between the two of them, and felt my uneasiness growing. Mystique slid back in her seat as though she were trying to disappear.

"You are a god among insects;" Magneto told John, "Never let anyone tell you different."

_Devil's bargain_ was the first thing that flashed into my head. I wanted to grab John by the shoulders and plead with him to see Magneto for what he really was. Even though I could, all that would register with Pyro would be that he had been grabbed by something invisible, and the Lord only knew what he would do in response. Instead I raised my eyes to Heaven in a silent prayer for him, before rejoining Nightcrawler.

Nightcrawler could obviously see the worry in my eyes as I settled on one knee beside him. He leaned in close and whispered so that no one else could hear, "What's wrong?"

"Sometimes I just wish I my influence extended beyond you. Not to say I don't want to be with you, you're one of my best assignments so far. But I…I wish I could help others too." I sighed heavily.

Kurt nodded slightly, and, trying not to look suspicious, rested a hand on my shoulder for a fraction of a second. I took his hand gently, and he squeezed mine. I held my breath as we flew toward Northern Canada. I had no idea what would be waiting for us, but I doubted anything was about to get better.


	11. Prodigal Son

I hope I got Mystique's parts right. I apologize for anyting I might have missed. Please review.

* * *

I sat with Nightcrawler as Mystique and Logan helped Storm to program the computer with the information they had between them. Logan supplied everything he remembered, and Mystique filled in holes and added details.

Finally, Storm had enough information to gather everyone together. Nightcrawler perched himself behind off to the side, as if hoping to go overlooked. John slouched into the seat behind him. I floated beside him, puzzling over the information Storm was giving us, tying things together and formulating my own plans and ideas in my mind.

"This," Storm said gesturing, "Is a topographic map of the dam. This is the spillway." The programmed image blurred and then changed almost too fast for a human eye to detect. "See these density changes in the terrain? They're tire tracks."

_Well_, I mused, _someone has been very, very busy_.

"That's the entrance," Logan explained.

"Mmm-hmm," Storm agreed, another flicker and the 3-D image morphed again. "And this shows the depth of ice covering the ground. And this," she added nervously, "Is recent water activity." A blue layer spread up, representing the water level, and revealing what could be done to protect the base. The water reached, I estimated, seven to eight feet high.

Jean explained to all those who didn't understand, "If we go in, Stryker could flood the spillway." There was a pause and a ripple of tension among the mutants gathered.

"Can you teleport inside?" Storm asked Nightcrawler.

I knew Kurt would dearly love to comply, but I also knew he couldn't. "No," Nightcrawler confessed, "I have to be able to see where I'm going. Otherwise, I could end up inside a wall." His voice trembled with audible terror at the concept. I reached over and embraced him gently. He had every right to be afraid.

"I'll go," Logan determined. It wasn't an offer, it was an order. "I have a hunch he'll want me alive."

"Wolverine," Magneto interjected. Instantly and effortlessly he held the attention of everyone in the room. Casually, Magneto walked through Storm's map, scattering it into pinpoints of light. I couldn't help but shrink back from him slightly; his presence carried a frigid coldness – a soul that was wrapped in the ice of indifference. "Whoever goes into the dam has to be able to operate the spillway mechanism," Magneto continued, "What do you intend to do?" he mocked Logan, "Scratch it with your claws?"

I could tell that Logan wanted nothing more than to sink said claws into Magneto's neck, but restrained himself. "I'll take my chances," he snarled in reply. He glared at Magneto, which, I knew, was only giving the old man the satisfaction he wanted. I had never heard him refer to Logan as anything other than 'Wolverine', as if he considered Logan to be the animal he took his namesake from, not human. It was taking effort for me to restrain myself, too.

"But, I won't," Magneto inform them, he turned towards Mystique, who stood at the back of the plane. She offered us a shy smile. In truth, Magneto had the idea. In strategy, you never send in two people who know two jobs, you send in one person who can do them both.

The decision was almost unanimous – Logan was against it and both Kurt and John opted not to vote – but we sent in Mystique, disguised as Logan. The transformation took her only seconds, but that was long enough for her to be distracted that I could slip my conscious into hers and place what we call a 'tracker', or a metal connection, so faint no human, save perhaps a very powerful telepath, could detect it. I would be able to see her, and see through her, and she'd never even notice.

Nightcrawler watched me curiously as I meditated on the open tracker, seeing the entrance to the base through Mystique's eyes. She entered the spillway, which instantly put her in sight of the cameras. She walked right down the center of the spillway, stopping before the camera over the door. "Stryker!" she yelled in Logan's voice, "Stryker!"

After an excruciating moment, two small doors opened in the sides of the walls, and several armed guards in full combat dress came out. 'Wolverine' raised his hands in surrender, as the guards had their guns on him. "Move and you're dead," one of the soldiers threatened. Mystique, as Logan, smirked. Back on the Blackbird, my face twisted into the same smile. The guards forced Mystique's wrists into shackles that clamped to her chest, fists to chin. I inwardly groaned at what they were testing, if it 'he' extended his claws to get free, he would inevitably drive them into his skull. They were seeing if he could survive his own claws.

I knew, also, that these guards hated mutants as much as Stryker, and would love to have any excuse to gun down this one, but Mystique played her role perfectly, she didn't resist anything, was utterly compliant. The guards had no reason to fire, I could tell how it was burning them up inside.

Once they had forced Mystique inside, Stryker came in, eager to see his 'creation'. Mystique raised looked at him, the faintest trace of a smile playing on her lips. Stryker immediately recognized that the mutant in shackles was not Logan. But, by now of course, the wheels had been set in motion, and it was too late. Stryker had played himself right into the mutants' hands.

"The one thing I know better than anyone is my own work," he told one of the soldiers, "Seal the room, shoot it." I sorely wanted to retaliate at him for referring to Mystique as an 'it', she was no less a human than him, more of one perhaps. He turned and left.

"Seal the room!" one of the soldiers ordered.

"Step away!" other one yelled, raising his gun.

It was far too late. The soldiers watched as 'Logan's' eyes turned yellow. The transformation started in her hands, and spread in a fraction of a second to the rest of her body. Mystique jumped, kicking one guard in the head, and the other in the chest simultaneously. Her hands came easily loose of the shackles, which were now far too big. She sprang and threw the shackles aside. They hit one of the guards in the face, sending him to the ground, skull smashed. Mystique grabbed one of the soldiers in a bear hug from behind, using him as a human shield against the bullets. She let go soon afterward, back-flipped down form the platform, decked another guard, and caught the one in front of him as another shield. As desperately as I wanted to block these terrible images from my mind, I continued to watch. I wanted to know exactly what was happening in there. Mystique continued her show of deadly acrobatics, until she hand escaped the guards, sliding on her stomach through the doors just as they closed. The last thing the soldiers saw before the heavy door sealed shut was the smirking blue skinned figure giving them the finger.

Mystique startled the young soldier watching the security screens as she entered; she had put on the disguise of Stryker, and had the accompaniment of an armed solider. "We have a metamorph loose! Could be anybody!"

"Anybody?" the soldier repeated, looking back to his screens. As he did so, Mystique leveled the guard who had been accompanying who he thought was William Stryker. She grabbed his gun as he fell, the sound caught the soldier attention, "What…?" he turned, and the last thing he saw before the world went black was the butt of the machine gun flying into his face.

Too late, the real William Stryker came racing around the corner, just in time to see his doppelganger blow him a kiss under the closing door.

Horrified as I was, I had to give Mystique credit; she had handled the situation much more gracefully than Logan would have. She didn't always kill, just ensured that no one could, literally, stand between her and what she wanted. She had made her way though the base, and not received so much as a scratch. She shed her second disguise, and put on the headset. I heard, through my thoughts, our radio spring to life. I instantly, and gratefully, severed my contact, and re-entered the world. Nightcrawler's tail twitched as he helped me regain my feet. I heard mystiques voice coming over the radio, "I'm in."

"She's good," Logan admitted.

Magneto smiled, as though he were reflecting on a secret, "You have no idea."

I smirked to myself. I knew that Magneto had used Mystique to infiltrate the Xavier Institute some months earlier. Of course, the X-Men didn't know that.

Storm left the teens with the instruction that they were to stay on the jet. Then she, Magneto, Logan, Jean, Nightcrawler, and I, all left. Kurt was trying very hard to maintain a steel face, but I knew how scared he was. I didn't blame him. I was, too, absolutely terrified.


	12. Search and Rescue

Another chapter, though pretty short. Some of the stuff here was copied from the X2 movie novel. Wish me luck in getting htis done before X3 comes out on DVD!

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Storm and Magneto handled our cover as we entered the building. Storm's winds took the place apart, lightning and thunder caused the walls to tremble. Magneto's powers blocked their camera and radio transmissions, leaving them incapable of communication. I saw, now, an abundance of my kind. I couldn't see them through my tracker, because none of Mystique's senses could detect them. I exchanged nods with them; one of them gave me the thumbs-up. They were, really, all on our side. As the mutants took care of what men Mystique had left standing, I broke away from Nightcrawler to greet one of Michael's soldiers of high rank. He told me, in hurried whispers, the fight would be hard-won, if won at all, because, while he believed us on the right side, we were seriously outnumbered.

"Numbers don't win battles," I replied, "The only battle truly won is one fought in righteousness."

He sighed and clasped my shoulders, "I wish it were that easy, my sister." We clasped arms and parted ways.

Nightcrawler looked at me like I was crazy as I caught up to the group. "Never mind," I told him before he could ask, "I could see him." Nightcrawler understood and didn't say anything about it. Based on information Mystique had given Magneto, and Logan's ability to track her scent, we found the control room in a matter of minutes. It was heavily guarded, and there were soldiers trying to blow and pry the doors open. Jean's telekinesis eliminated that threat. "Shall we knock?" I muttered to myself sarcastically, "Or just let ourselves in?" Magneto obviously chose the latter, as he ripped the door out of the wall and led the way in. Mystique was waiting for us inside.

I waved Nightcrawler to go in without me, and remained outside to gather as much information as I could from the angels who were present. Every soldier has an angel with them, regardless of whose side they're on. I talked with them for a few moments, gathering information about the base, Stryker's activities, how much the soldier's knew, etc. They were glad to oblige, and told me to keep my eyes open for Soul Collectors – the closest thing there is to an angel of death. They extract the souls from the bodies in the last breath, and give them over to Michael. I've done it a few times. The rule is, pretty much, if your assignment dies, you fill the role of Soul Collector. I thanked them and rejoined Nightcrawler inside.

Mystique was showing them where Cerebro was on a map of the base. "Can you shut it down from here?" Storm asked hopefully.

"No," Mystique replied, her voice sharp in a tone of 'what do you think', as well as an obvious ire that she couldn't, that this couldn't just be that easy.

"Come," Magneto said calmly, almost too calmly, "There's still time."

"_Not_ without us," Jean determined.

"Oh, my God," Ororo interrupted, she had seen the screen hat showed six of the children from the institute in the holding cell, "The children!" she spun to Nightcrawler, "Kurt? Will you come with me?"

Nightcrawler didn't hesitate to answer, "Yes." Mystique showed Storm where the containment cell was, and plans were made for Ororo and Kurt, and I, to find the children and meet up at Cerebro. Jean, Magneto, Mystique, and Wolverine would endeavor to find Cyclops and Professor Xavier, neither of whom I had yet gotten the chance to meet, and would see us there.

"Will you be all right without us?" Storm asked.

"Yeah, we'll be fine," Jean reassured her. That made Ororo notice something.

"Where's Logan?"

Logan had slipped off from the group, I had registered his departure, but had been so focused that I hadn't really noticed he was gone. He had left his earpiece communicator behind, so that we couldn't find him. Jean sighed heavily, "He's gone."

I just nodded; Logan had a lot of unanswered questions, a lot of healing that needed to take place. This was the place where that could truly start to happen. It was best to leave him be, let him find his own way. Kurt caught my eyes with a worried look. "He'll be fine," I tried to reassure him; "He's got his battles, and his ghosts, to contend with." Kurt nodded ever so slightly, but he didn't seem too sure.

Having memorized the directions Mystique gave Storm, I flew ahead of Nightcrawler, who had found himself at home in the low, small space, where he could bound off the walls and run along the ceiling. I could see that Ororo's claustrophobia was affecting her, but she kept a strong front, as well as about two paces back from us, following Nightcrawler, who was following me.

At one point, we came around the corner, and there were three armed soldiers waiting. I turned around quickly, pushing Kurt back. "Stay here! I'll distract them!" I flew off. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw both Nightcrawler and Storm cautiously peering around the corner. I flew past the soldiers, around another corner, and, seizing a piece of broken off concrete, threw it as hard as I could down the corridor. The soldiers all came running my way, once they had put enough space between them and Kurt and Ororo, I beckoned Nightcrawler, and he and Storm hesitantly came forward. They had to take the next left corridor, and just as they were turning, the soldiers returned, having found nothing. I realized that they would see us at the speed we were moving. As Kurt had hung back behind Ororo, I saw no alternative than to place both hands firmly on his shoulder blades and roughly push him out of sight. Unfortunately, Kurt cried out in surprise, and caught the guards' attention. They came racing forward, just as we turned another corner; I never saw one of them raise his gun to fire….

I felt a sudden lightning bolt of a pain extend through my entire body as the bullet entered my back. I felt another excruciating jolt as it exited through my chest. My eyes widened at the unexpected, agonizing, sensation, my head went back as my chest lurched forward, throwing the rest of me with it. Instinctively I reached out for Kurt's shoulder for support. I clasped my other hand tightly over the wound in my chest; I could feel the blood seeping through my fingers, welling up in my throat and running out the corners of my mouth. I tried to talk, but all I could manage were choked gasps that caused blood to spray everywhere. Nightcrawler, eyes wide in horror, caught me just before I hit the concrete. Storm had heard the gunshot, and run on ahead. With all the strength I had, I grasped Kurt's coat in one fist, he grabbed me in an embrace, and teleported us both.

We landed out of sight of the soldiers; my entire body was racked with pain as Kurt set me down gently. I knew he was trying to figure out why I hadn't died yet, as the bullet had gone through my left side, and pierced my heart and lung. I rested my head against the wall, waiting for my body to heal; I was still, reflexively, trying to draw a deep breath, but could do nothing other than choke on my own blood. I turned my head and spit out as much as I could. I felt a burning itch as the wounds finished closing. Slowly, painfully, I staggered to my feet, bracing myself against the wall. I pulled up the edge of my shirt, to see a bruise and a circular scar just below my breast. I knew that was one matching it one my back. Nightcrawler helped me get my balance and half carried me down the hallway, Storm was waiting, and, seeing Nightcrawler covered in my blood, cried out, thinking he had been shot.

The blood evaporated like a mist, and disappeared. Storm looked at Nightcrawler again, blinked, shook her head, and must've determined that her panicked mind had imagined blood. I didn't yet have the strength to fly, so I kept pace with Kurt as he ran ahead of Ororo.

We soon reached the proper door, Kurt and Ororo peered in through the window. Kurt didn't bother to wait to teleport inside, I entered with Storm, still feeling a bit unsteady, and still experiencing an ache in my chest that would take a bit of time to fade fully. Kurt had almost completely blended into the shadows, his outline was mostly visible, and his eyes glowed like two orbs of golden fire.

A cry for help rose from a hole in the floor, and the three of us were there in a heartbeat. It was covered with what looked like a glass manhole cover. "Jubilee?" Storm called down.

"Storm!" someone shouted back. This was followed by another plead for help.

"Okay," Ororo assured them, "We're coming." She turned to Nightcrawler, but he had already had the same thought, and acted on it. With a puff of smoke the same color as his skin that reeked faintly of sulfur and a loud _bamph_ of imploding air, he was gone…to reappear in the shadows of the cell. The kids backed away in terror as he emerged into the light.

Kurt quickly introduced himself, and, with several assurances he wasn't going to hurt them, managed to coax one of the girls closer. He wrapped her firmly, yet gently, in his arms and tail. "Now, close your eyes," he instructed, and in a blink, he was back. Setting the frightened child in Ororo's arms, Kurt went back and forth in record time, bringing out the other five. By the time he had released the last boy from his arms, he looked as if he were going to collapse. I steadied him before he fell over and he grabbed my shoulder tightly until his footing came back to him.

"I know that was hard for you," I offered, "I'm so proud of you, Kurt." He smiled shyly, and nodded his thanks. The boy did not overcome as quickly as Kurt had, and had soon expelled the entire contents of his system. Even with his dark skin, I could tell Nightcrawler was blushing violently. He shot both the boy and Storm an apologetic glance, and ducked his head. Storm quickly reassured him that he had done nothing wrong.

Just then, a powerful force rocked the entire structure, Kurt's first reflex was to dive towards Storm and the children and get between them and the door. I knew that that was no good sign; we were in more danger now than at any previous point. "We've got to get them out of here!" I told Nightcrawler, who met my eyes with a confident look, and soon had Storm and the children on the move. I could feel an icy sense of dread pulsing throughout my body as Storm navigated our way back. Kurt and I remained at the rear of the group to keep everyone together. The younger children were huddled around Storm and Jubilee, most of them crying. My heart went out to them, but there was nothing I could do. I felt my brow knit as a powerful shiver ran up my back, causing my body to tremble so hard I looked like I was convulsing. I recovered quickly and ran on. Kurt caught my eye and gave me a 'what's wrong?' look.

I didn't reply, just grabbed his hand, "Whatever happens, don't let go," I warned, "You might not be able to grab back on."


	13. Hell on Earth

I was aware of a high pitched buzzing that made my ears hurt not even a second before Nightcrawler released my hand, clutching his head with both hands. The children fell one by one; some dropped to their knees, and then rolled over on their sides, others just collapsed like bowling pins. Storm was leaning on the wall, doing everything in her power to stay on her feet – to stay strong. Nightcrawler stayed standing as long as he could, before the pain and the pressure forced him to his knees. He threw open his arms as he fell, perhaps in a silent prayer for mercy, before he fell onto his side, curling into a ball and covering his ears with both hands. The pain was feeling as though each of them was being torn apart of the molecular level, and a fiery burning sensation to the skin, combined with an unbearable pressure caused by the waves of physic energy. My only symptom was an incredibly high-pitched screaming/buzzing sound that seemed to come from inside my head, I figured what the mutants were hearing was far worse.

I wrapped both arms around Nightcrawlerand pulled him as close to me as I could, I looked up, and saw them. An angel with Storm, with every child, and a breath-taking vision in my mind's eye showed them all. Every mutant of Earth had fallen, screaming in incomparable pain, and there was an angel with every one. Kurt had seized my shoulders, trying to hang onto me. His lips moved slowly, but there was no sound, still I recognized the words, _don't…let…him…take…me_. I knew who he was talking about. To Kurt, this must tie in perfectly with everything he'd ever been taught about Hell. The feeling of being burned alive and ripped apart, to the knowledge of a suddenly very distant God, he was begging me to save him from this Hell, but there was nothing I could do.

"Not that time yet," I tried to reassure him, "You're not going anywhere." But I doubt he heard me.

I clasped him close to my chest, ignoring the now blinding pain in my head and the grief at my inability to help crushing my heart, and prayed that God spare them all this Hell on Earth. Every angel on the planet's prayer joined mine, I knew, but they seemed in vain, until, suddenly, after what had seemed like an eternity, the pain stopped. The noise inside my head stopped and the pressure released. Slowly, Kurt lifted his head; the other mutants did the same. Nightcrawler ran the back of his hand over his cheeks to wipe away the tears the pain had squeezed from his eyes. His nose was bleeding, but I took care of that.

"It's okay," I soothed him; "You're safe now."

He wasn't listening; he had lifted himself to a sitting position, and curled his head to his knees, covered his head with his hands, and wrapped his tail around his torso. "_Vater_," he moaned in a tortured voice, "_Vater, Vater, Vater_…."

"He knows, Kurt, He knows."

"_Mein Vater_…" _My Father…_

I put one arm around him, and waited for him to calm down. There was nothing I could do, he couldn't even hear me. He was still in shock, it was better to wait for him to come out of it than to try and draw him out.

Storm was comforting the children, and suddenly noticed Nightcrawler's absence. As Nightcrawler whispered prayer after prayer in German, she came and knelt beside him, "Kurt?"

"Ororo," he whispered, lifting his tearstained face. His tail twitched out and caught her arm, drawing her a little closer, "Are you hurt?"

"I'll live, what about you?"

"I…I," he paused, shooting me a grateful look, "The Father has been looking out for me."

"Ready to help us save the world, then?"

Kurt seemed ready to lighten the mood, he got to his feet, helping Storm, and bowed to her, "For you, Fair Lady, of course." Storm was unable to suppress a slightly embarrassed giggle, I grinned myself.

As Storm began to move the children down the corridor, I slipped up beside Kurt, "Sure you're okay?"

"I…I though, for a moment, that you'd left me," he confessed in a whisper. "Everything was dark, all that pain, but I thought I heard your voice. I wanted to believe you were still there. That you would save me."

"I don't have that kind of power, Kurt."

"_Ja_, I know," but he took my hand, and held it tight.

Storm led the way to Cerebro. We came upon the round door; I knew that what was beyond it was the dark and perverted version of Xavier's greatest dream, and accomplishment. "What's this?" Kurt exclaimed in some fear.

"Cerebro," Storm said, but she spit the word, this was not Cerebro to her. The true Cerebro was used by Xavier to unite mutants; this had almost destroyed them all. She and Nightcrawler settled the children in an area free of debris. Emerging from under one pile was a human arm. When no one was looking at me, I nudged it to where the children couldn't see. Then I re-joined the group.

Jean and a man I perceived to be Cyclops came down an adjacent corridor, Jean was limping severely, and I knew her leg was badly broken. "Jean, are you okay?" Storm demanded, also noticing Jean's condition.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Jean gasped.

"What's happening?" Storm asked, her voice rising in fear.

Jean focused, her forehead creased, her eyes narrowed and blinked several times, as she probed behind the doors with her mind. "The Professor's still in there, with another mutant. He's trapped, in some kind of…illusion." Jean's mind was still working, then her eyes widened in horror, "Oh, my God," she gasped, "Magneto's reversed Cerebro, it's not targeting mutants anymore!"

"Who's it targeting?" Storm asked confused.

Jean gave her a look as if to say _'who do you think?'_, and replied, "Everyone else."

I closed my eyes, forcing myself into a broader spectrum of existence, which enabled my mind's eye to see, and saw the humans, dropping like flies, literally, screaming and crying, I could also see the angels who accompanied them. I also knew that there would be no mortal savior for them, as I now knew there had been for us, unless we acted quickly.

"Everybody stand back," Cyclops ordered, removing Jean's arm from his shoulder. He raised a hand to his visor, I knew he was going to blow the door open.

"Scott, _No_!" Jean interjected, "His mind in connected to Cerebro. Opening the door could kill him and everyone his mind is linked to." An ominous 'now what' hung in the air around us all. We had to get inside to what was, essentially, a sealed chamber.

"Wait," Storm said, turning to Nightcrawler, she looked him in the eyes, "Kurt…I need you to take me inside."

"Storm, who is this guy?" Cyclops demanded, he was feeling put out, no doubt, not knowing who this was that Storm and Jean had put their trust in. "Who are you?" he all but yelled at Nightcrawler.

I saw Kurt shrink somewhat under the other man's harshness, whether trying to defuse the situation, or trying to seem confident, important, or both, he launched into his circus spiel, "My name is Kurt Wagner," he announced, with much authority, "But in the Munich Circus…"

Storm gently pressed a hand against his lips to silence him, Kurt obeyed her, and I could again see the blood rushing to his face in embarrassment. I put my hands on his shoulders encouragingly, "You were trying to help," I assured him, "Nothing to be ashamed of."

"He's a teleporter," Storm briefly explained to Cyclops. Then she met Kurt's eyes again, silently pleading for his help. Kurt lowered his gaze somewhat.

"I told you," he whispered, "If I can't see where I'm going…"

"I have faith in you," Storm whispered back, and one look in her eyes showed how much she meant it.

"As do I," I agreed, as I stepped around to stand beside Ororo, "I know you can do this, Kurt."

Jean cautioned us, "Don't believe anything you see in there."

Nightcrawler slowly put his arms around Storm, and wrapped his tail around her waist; she pressed herself against him and closed her eyes tight. I put one arm around Nightcrawler and one around Storm, hoping that she would suffer no ill effects of teleporting.

"Our Father, who art in Heaven," Kurt whispered, closing his eyes, "Hallowed be Thy name. Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done…"

"Now, Kurt," I whispered.

"On Earth…"

_BAMF!_

"As it is in Heaven!" we emerged on the other side of the door. Ororo looked slightly queasy, so Kurt held her a moment longer as she collected herself. The inside of the room was filthy and battered-looking. It was, quite obviously, improvised from cast off and poor-quality materials. I could see Storm and Nightcrawler standing beside me, I could see the backs of two people in wheelchairs, the one in the suit, I knew to be professor Xavier, and the second one, my mind told me, was named Jason, he was Stryker's son, and Stryker used him to control other mutants. He now was called mutant 143.

I knew that Storm and Nightcrawler were not seeing what I was seeing. I caught hold of Kurt's hand, and managed to see through his eyes. I felt every nerve of my body grow cold at what I saw.


	14. Demon With an Angel's Face

In Kurt and Ororo's minds, the platform before them was empty, save for a little girl in a white nightdress. She was a cherub of a child. Her skin was a flawless bloom, her hair glowed with golden light, her smile was warm with innocence; she was almost perfect. Almost. Her eyes were two different colors. One was the deep blue of the sky when the sun has begun to set. The other was the richest hazel I had ever seen. But there was something, something beneath those mismatched eyes, that betrayed that she wasn't perfect, she wasn't pure, she wasn't even human. Her eyes had the fatal depth of a shark's blank eyes, but also held a malicious, plotting look, an evil look. Though her powers would have no effect on me, I was afraid to look into those eyes. I could sense nothing from her, save a cold emptiness in the place normally filled by the soul. She had no soul. But I could tell partly because she was an illusion. She was not really there. She existed within Kurt, Ororo, and Xavier's minds, but their minds registered her as real.

"Hello," she said innocently, "What are you looking for?"

"Professor?" Storm called. Her voice echoed back slightly from the great empty chamber, "Can you hear me? You've got to stop Cerebro, _now_!" she was remarkably calm, while I felt myself getting very agitated.

"Who are you talking to?" the little girl asked incredulously. She still had a childlike innocence being portrayed; I sensed that a part of that was Jason, trying to reclaim the child part of him has father had mangled and murdered when Jason's X-Gene became active. Suddenly, though briefly, I felt very sorry for him. He was trying to please his father, make him proud…make him love him as he once had.

Nightcrawler looked angry, he moved to step towards the girl, but Storm held him back with one arm as I caught him from the other side, "No, don't move," Storm ordered.

"But she's just a little girl," Kurt protested.

"No, she's not," Storm and I said together. Kurt looked from her to me, and stayed where he was.

The girl smiled, but it wasn't a smile, it was more of a malevolent, gloating, deadly smirk. Like a predator moving in for the kill. "I've got my eyes on you," she proclaimed, it was the song-song tone of her voice that filled me withdreadas much as her words.

Storm seemed to be calculating as well. Finally she turned to us, "Kurt," she warned "It's about to get very cold in here." She was giving him one last chance to duck out.

"I'm not going anywhere," Kurt stated firmly, he had made a promise to her.

I stepped close to him, "You're not alone," I whispered encouragingly, "You've _never_ been alone." His tail encircled my wrist, and I knew the significance of the gesture. My mind flashed back to the church, how his tail gripped my wrist as Jean treated his wound. It has his way of silently saying he trusted me.

Storm's eyes grew white, milky, almost like one blind. But I knew she was seeing things more clearly now. A blizzard wind began to swell. It was like no cold Nightcrawler had ever felt before. This wind and ice was sharp as broken glass, and teh cold dry as a bone. It seemed to cut through the flesh, and froze the body in moments, like being pelted with high-speed freezing cold sand. Kurt instantly started shivering. I knew Ororo could spare neither the energynor the concentration to shelter him from her own creation. Instantly, the room was sheathed in white. _Ice, white ice, like a winding sheet, sheathing each smoke-grimed wall..._ - Robert Frost, from his poem 'The Ballad of Blasphemous Bill'. It seemed an appropriate thought as it ran through the back of my mind.

"What are you doing?" the illusion-child questioned in a desperate tone of voice. At this, Storm's winds whistled even more strongly, and became even more bitterly cold. I could see Jason shivering. Professor Xavier was covered in frost, but he wasn't shivering because Jason's mind control prevented his mind and body from realizing he was cold.

Kurt's legs gave out under him, and he collapsed to his knees. He was breathing on his hands as best he could to warm them, but he was shivering so hard, he couldn't breathe very well. I knelt beside him, drew him close, and did my best to block out the wind and the cold. Still, I could do very little. Kurt grasped my clothing with fingers so stiff with cold they could hardly bend, and buried his face in my shoulder somewhat. It was not so much cold now as it was pain. His skin would be too numb to feel the cold any longer, only the stinging bite of Ororo's winds would affect him. The only cold I could really feel was how cold he was to the touch. I prayed that Storm would end her blizzard soon, before he suffered frostbite, or worse, hypothermia.

"Stop it!" the girl shouted, like an angry child throwing a temper tantrum.

I knew Jason's power was ended before we heard the Professor say, "Jason," as his senses and his mind returned to him.

"He's gonna be so angry at me," Jason's illusion cried out, expressing his terror. Jason had lost his ability to communicate in any way other than his illusions; I sensed his genuine horror at what Stryker would do to him so strongly, that another feeling of compassion and sympathy swept over me. The girl screamed, and disappeared.

Professor Xavier shut down Cerebro and removed his helmet. Storm's winds stopped. I pulled a frozen Nightcrawler to his feet, he was almost entirely covered in white. "You look like some distant relation of the abominable snowman," I joked as I brushed frost from his face. Kurt smiled at me, relived that it was over….

And then the roof started caving in.

A loud crack was our first clue that something was wrong, then the platform started to tremble beneath us. Professor Xavier turned, staring at Jason with pity. I don't know if Jason recognized it or not, as his face didn't change.

A piece of the ceiling broke off, headed right for where Storm was standing; she stood, looking up at it, too terrified to move. "Kurt!" I screamed, with no hesitation, he grabbed Storm and teleported out with her. I stayed behind, dodging debris as I moved closer to Xavier and Jason. Suddenly Nightcrawler was back, he grabbed Professor Xavier, whipping his tail around me in a heartbeat, and we were both gone. Just before, I saw a Soul Collector standing mournfully over Jason. I knew that there would be notime to save him. Then, he vanished into the darkness.

Outside, Kurt was ready to go back for Jason, but I rested a hand on his arm to stop him. "Kurt, it's too late." I said quietly, "He's already gone." Kurt gave a grieved glance at the door, I knew he felt like it was murder to leave Jason behind, but I couldn't help feeling that this was better for him. I hoped it was, Jason had suffered enough on Earth, I prayed he wouldn't suffer through Eternity as well.

Ororo had Professor Xavier by one arm, Nightcrawler took the other and most of his weight, and we all began running together, fast as we could with two people who couldn't walk. Every time I glanced at Xavier, I was hit with recognition; he looked familiar, like when you meet a friend you haven't seen in years. I assumed that I had hit the stage where every human looks like one you've met.

The kids were terrified, the adults even more so, because they knew what was going on. In this case, knowledge was far more frightening that ignorance. I felt the presence of the Soul Collectors without having to see them, so many…so much death. I shrugged it off as best I could. There would time to feel later, right now I had to think, and the two keep very little company.


	15. The Only Way

The prayer Victoria says for Jean is based on a real blessing for the souls of the dead and dying.

enjoy

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Kurt kept shooting me terrified glances as he ran. I wished I could have come up with something inspirational…angelic…to say. But I was every bit as scared as he was.

"We have to get out through the spillway!" Storm shouted above the commotion.

A mental red flag went up. "I don't think we want to do that," I told Nightcrawler. He nodded, he would trust me randomly on that, I realized. Suddenly I realized how little help I was.

We were approaching the doors, Nightcrawler spoke, "Storm, are you sure that this is the best…"

The door slid shut, everyone jumped back. I was the first to see Logan, claws sticking out of the electronic circuit box that controlled the door mechanism. He was gasping as the smoke rising from the broken controls choked him.

When he got his breath back, Logan told us, "You don't wanna go that way, trust me." He pulled his claws free. I saw the children gaping in a combination of fear and fascination. "Come on," Logan insisted, "There's another way out of here."

Wolverine led us out a sort of 'back door', an unused entrance that would lead out to a landing pad. The only problem was that there was nothing landed there. One of the boys stumbled on the snow and fell. Logan picked him up in his arms and carried him to join the rest of us. I smiled. I knew that the X-men were the closest thing he had to family, and how much he would put his life on the line for them.

As we stood before the empty landing pad, Kurt looked desperately at me; his expression begged me for some cue as to what we were going to do now.

"I don't know, Kurt," I whispered, forcing back frustrated tears, "I don't know what to do."

"The helicopter was right here!" Logan shouted.

Just then, I heard the roar of jet engines, we all looked up to see the Blackbird flying clumsily above the trees. Who was at the controls, I didn't know, but they were obviously untrained, as the plane wobbled in the air, then made a none-too-graceful landing. I saw Rouge sitting tearfully at the controls, utterly terrified. I felt pride welling in my chest, _way to go, Rogue!_

The mutants looked at each other for a second, before they started boarding. "I will take him," Nightcrawler said to Storm, as he took Xavier in a bear hug. I waved him to go without me. I had seen Wolverine looking away from the jet, towards the forest. I knew he was going to take off, and I wanted to make sure he made no rash decisions. Kurt looked at me out of the window I gestured to Logan and gave Kurt an _'I'll make sure he doesn't hurt himself'_ expression. Kurt gave me a half-smile and disappeared back into the plane.

I followed Logan into the woods; the boy in his arms kept looking over Logan's shoulder in my direction. I wondered if he were aware of my presence. Young children are often very open to angelic presence; sometimes they see us when we don't want them to.

I stopped short and gasped as we saw the body of William Stryker chained to a large section of a cement wall. For a moment, I thought he was dead, I think Logan did too. Then, I noticed his life-force, or what was left of it, and saw that he was breathing. He wouldn't live much longer though.

Wolverine just stared at him, then, Stryker spoke. His words were harsh and cold, "Who has the answers, Wolverine? Those people? That creature in your arms?"

"Logan," I said, though Stryker couldn't hear me, "His name is Logan."

Logan and the boy looked at each other, I could tell Logan was weighing his options – the answers he'd always wanted, always been searching for, or the security of the family he'd adopted; the chance to put down roots somewhere and find out who he was for himself.

"Huh?" Stryker prompted, "Huh?"

Logan's face said his mind was made up. He set the boy down, reached up to his neck, and broke off the chain that held his dog tag, the one piece left of his past, and threw the tag into the snow, then he scooped the boy back up in his arms. "I'll take my chances with him." Logan turned and left, leaving Stryker to die.

"One day, someone will finish what I've started, Wolverine!" Stryker cried desperately, "One day!"

I could tell Logan's thoughts from his face: _not if I have anything to say about it._

The boy in Logan's arms turned his head, and stuck out his blue, serpent-like tongue at Stryker. "One day!" Stryker yelled again. Logan kept walking.

I lingered behind, crouching, I ran a fingertip over Logan's dog tag; '458 25 243 Wolverine'. I stood, and kicked snow over the tag. This was something best forgotten. I lifted myself up into the air, and flew after Logan, back towards the jet.

When I arrived, Nightcrawler gave me a relived look, "Where were you?" he asked in a whisper.

"Chasing a few old ghosts away," I replied.

"What's wrong?" Logan was demanding

"Vertical thrusters are off line," Scott replied.

"So? Fix it!"

"I'm trying!" I could see Rogue close to tears, convinced she was responsible. Bobby was trying to reassure her. Kurt hung back next to me. He wanted to help, but knew nothing of flying. I gripped his hand tightly; it seemed our rescue wasn't going to work after all.

Just then Rogue spoke up, "Hey! Has anyone seen John?"

It wasn't until she said it that I noticed he was gone. It was now that the mutants realized it too.

"Pyro?" Logan demanded, "Where the Hell is he?"

"He's with Magneto," Jean said quietly, sadly.

Just them, all the lights went out, "Oh no, we've lost the power!" Ororo exclaimed. Her voice rose in panic. Kurt clutched my hand with one of his, his rosary with the other, and prayed with all his heart.

I looked back towards the terrified children. I saw Jean, standing in the aisle, supporting herself on one of the seats. She looked towards the still extended ramp, back towards us, and made her choice. I watched tearfully as she limped down the ramp and around the plane. "The Lord bless you, Jean. May He understand your sacrifice," I whispered. I made no move to stop her or alert anyone.

Xavier noticed that she was missing after a few seconds, "Jean?" he asked worriedly.

Everyone stopped, their attention caught by the fear in his voice, "Wait," Logan demanded, "Where's Jean?"

Professor Xavier winched in pain as the revelation settled on him, "She's outside," he moaned.

Cyclops nearly flew out of his seat, pushed both Kurt and Logan aside, and ran for the ramp. Jean's telekinesis closed it on him just as he reached it. I sighed heavily.

The jet suddenly lit up, the power came back on, switches flipped themselves, the engines roared to life. "No!" Scott shouted, "We are not leaving! Lower the ramp! Storm! Lower it!"

"I can't!" Storm pleaded. Suddenly the jet shuddered as Jean got her telekinesis got its grip. With one hand she controlled the jet, with the other; she held back the wall of water. "She's controlling the jet!" Storm cried, unable to force a response from her controls.

Logan turned to Nightcrawler, "You! Get her, now!"

Kurt tried, only to reappear in the exact same place, "She's not letting me!" he exclaimed in terror.

"Dammit!" Cyclops determined though clenched teeth.

"I know what I'm doing," Xavier said calmly from behind us, "This is the only way."

Scott dropped to one knee beside Xavier, "Jean? Listen to me. Don't do this." He begged, his voice caught in his throat, a tear snaked out from under his visor.

Jean, through Professor Xavier, smiled, "Goodbye."

"No, no, no!" Logan exclaimed in panic.

I looked out the window at Jean, she looked back towards the jet, and I could see an unearthly fire surrounding her. That fire was the heart of her powers, it gave me a sense of hope, and a faith Jean did know what she was doing. I saw then, also, a blue robed Soul Collector, who had both his arms around her. I felt tears form in my eyes. "Goodbye, Jean," I replied. The jet rose off the ground, light made its way through the windows again. Like everyone else, I kept my eyes on Jean.

I heard, from Jean herself, I sort of music. A celestial song- music of the spheres- I think I was the only one on the jet who could hear it. Jean could hear it, I was certain. It filled me with a soothing calm. Jean's eyes closed, her arms fell to her sides. I saw the Soul Collector embrace her tightly as the wall of water engulfed her.

There was silence, shock rippled through the jet. Xavier looked devastated, as though it had been his own child swept away by the water. In many ways, it had been. "She's gone," Logan gasped in disbelief, "She's gone." He sounded as if a part of him had died with her. I knew that it had, to have just found Jean, and to loose her now, just when hope had made itself known to him again….

"DON'T" Scott cried, shoving Kurt aside, seizing Logan by the shoulders, "Don't you say that! We gotta go back!"

"She's gone," Logan repeated gently.

Kurt looked towards the two of them, and then turned his eyes sadly away. "It's all right, Kurt," I soothed, "Jean…" I forced back the lump in my throat, "Jean knew what she was doing."

"NO!" Scott shook Logan as best he could, "no." he said, forcing a denying smile. But he couldn't change it. He cried out in anguish, and collapsed onto Logan. Logan put an arm around him, Scott sobbed into Logan's shoulder. Logan himself began to tremble slightly.

"She's gone," Logan repeated, unable to comprehend, "She's gone. She's gone." Both Kurt and Storm looked out the window. Kurt fingered his rosary gently, before speaking, "The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want."

"He maketh me to lie down in green pastures," I spoke with him, "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for Thou art with me."

"And He was," I assured Kurt, "So was one of His angels." Kurt nodded. I realize the significance of the prayer being in English. That he had not prayed in German, but in a language Jean would've understood. I embraced him as I guided him to his seat. Kurt's eyes filled with grief…two people he couldn't save. I blinked back my own tears, and gave the blessing I knew for the dead.

"Child, your Father takes you to His heart,  
His angels bear you to him on wings of gold.  
May he forgive your sins,  
And grant you entrance into His kingdom  
To Dwell in His presence forever.  
Until we meet in Heaven,  
Goodnight."

"Amen," Kurt added softly.

The steel colored water disappeared behind us as Storm flew us towards home.


	16. An Opportunity

the phrase 'baptism of fire' is used in the first issue of the 'Uncanny X-Men' by Xavier to describe their first ever battle against Magneto.

* * *

I gripped Kurt's hand as Xavier outlined how he was going to get us into the Oval Office. I knew how scared Kurt was, that he would be caught – arrested – for something he didn't do, not by choice anyway.

"It'll be okay," I assured him, "I won't let anything happen to you." I didn't know how to keep anything from happening, but didn't say that. Kurt nodded, trusting me on a blind faith that always humbled me. He would believe anything I were to tell him, true or not.

"My fellow Americans," the President began, I noticed how they only seemed to be his equals when their help, or forgiveness, was needed. _Bah, politicians_. "In this time of adversity, we are being offered a moment." _There would be no adversity if you could just accept them_ I though bitterly. I looked at Kurt. Society would never accept him, but he was perhaps the sweetest person I'd ever met.

As the President continued his speech, suddenly everything froze. The screens and teleprompter died simultaneously, no one in the room was moving.

"Did we just loose the feed? Are we still live?" McKenna asked. The sky behind him turned dark, winds began to whip the trees, thunder roared as lightning lit the sky. The lights in the roomed dimmed almost to the point of going out all together. McKenna turned to look out the window at the suddenly darkened sky, and turned back around. I wasn't sure if he was initially aware of the seven extra figures that were now present in the room.

A flash of Storm's lightning lit the entire room, and revealed them all. Storm, Nightcrawler, Wolverine, Cyclops, Rogue, Iceman, and Professor Xavier. They stood as still as statues, not moving, not speaking, barely even breathing. McKenna looked as though he'd seen a ghost. Storm's eyes were white, as she controlled the winds and lightning with expert precision.

Xavier spoke first, "Good Morning, Mr. President."

McKenna looked around the room, and his gaze settled on Kurt and I. Well, on Kurt, as he couldn't see me. Nightcrawler was perched comfortable on the fireplace mantle at the back of the room, half-hidden in shadows. I leaned on one elbow against the mantle, I couldn't help but raise one eyebrow at the President's expression; Kurt lowered his raised tail and looped it casually around my arm. He gave the President a smile and a slight, friendly wave. Any remaining color drained from McKenna's face.

Kurt lowered his arm and glanced towards me for a cue, an embarrassed smile playing on his features. I giggled reassuringly, reaching over with my other arm to rub his tail; he squeezed my arm playfully back, and returned his attention to the president.

McKenna had risen to his feet, watching Nightcrawler, and seeming bewildered hat the man who had tried not even a week ago to murder him made no move, but watched him with curious amusement.

"Please don't be alarmed," Xavier said coolly, "We're not going to harm anyone." Some of the X-men advanced a step, showing that they would only defend themselves. They would not make the first move. Not today, or in any fights to come.

"Who are you people?" McKenna demanded; his voice contained a waiver of fear.

"We're mutants," Xavier said bluntly, not denying what was true. "My name is Charles Xavier, please, sit down."

"I'd rather stand." I rolled my eyes.

"I think they should be more afraid of you," I hissed. Kurt smiled knowingly to himself.

"Rogue," Xavier said calmly. Rogue stepped forward and placed the blue folder containing the incriminating documents of McKenna's desk. I leaned forward for a better look. "These files" Xavier said in a tone that commanded you to listen, "Were taken from the private offices of William Stryker." McKenna looked up at the name. Then back down and continued flipping through the files. He saw what was written there, and I could clearly read his expression: _Dear God, what did I allow him to do?_ I knew he was seeing the names, the things done to them, the lists of 'exterminations'. His eyes filled with revelation and horror.

"How did you _get_ this?"

"Let's just say I know a little girl who can walk through walls," Xavier explained. I smiled broadly, Kurt chuckled. But his face quickly became serious, even somewhat dismal. I knew he was still frightened. McKenna heard him and glanced up, and gave Kurt a confused look. Kurt gave him a gentle smile in return. McKenna sat down.

"I've never seen this information," he confessed.

"I know," Xavier said. _No one has_, I thought to myself.

"Then you know I don't respond well to threats."

"Mr. President, this is not a threat. This is an opportunity. There are forces in this world, both mutant and human alike who believe that a war is coming." Xavier explained. Storm let loose more lightning; I felt that was her way of allowing some anger at the fact to release. "You will see from those files that some have already tired to start one," Xavier paused, steadying himself, "And there have been casualties, losses – on both sides."

I could see that Scott was struggling not to cry. I felt so sorry for him. But he was staying strong, even in the face of so great a loss. He swallowed several times. I also saw Logan shoot a compassionate glance in his direction.

"Mr. President," Xavier approached the desk slowly, "What you were about to tell the world is true. This is a moment." There was a slight pause, "A moment to repeat the mistakes of the past, or to work together for a better future." I smiled grimly; I knew that would be a hard road. "We're here to stay, Mr. President," Xavier said simply, "The next move is yours."

"We'll be watching you." Logan warned in conclusion. Storm summoned more lightning, illustrating their point. Nightcrawler leaned back beside me, cocking his head somewhat, and smiling a knowing, almost cocky, smile. He wanted McKenna to know that his intentions were those of the others, but that he was still not someone to be underestimated. I smirked almost evilly beside him, my eyebrows arching.

I glanced towards Rogue and Bobby, who were standing at attention. They had been given uniforms just earlier, having survived a baptism of fire. I was proud of them, but something in me hurt for them. They were no longer innocents; they had to face the harshness of the world. They had to grow up.

McKenna saw blackness as we disappeared. I was watching in on a tracker I had on him as we boarded the jet. I saw the room come back to life, and McKenna look down at his desk, seeing the blue folder. He folded his hands, took a deep breath, and prepared to make history.


	17. Watching Over You

Kurt had perched himself on the windowsill of his new bedroom. To him the room was a palace, after a life in a caravan. He looked out over the gardens, distantly, sadly. "Kurt?"

"_Ja?_"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Victoria. But I...I feel as if I have…killed."

"That's not 'nothing'," I noted coming over to stand behind him, "You haven't killed anyone, Kurt."

"_Nein_, I have killed twice," he turned his head, and I could see the tears in his eyes, "You were there," he whispered. I didn't respond, so he continued, "I have not taken life, true. But I have killed through inaction. That boy, and…and," he choked back a sob, "And Miss Gray."

I put my arms around him from behind; he clasped on hand over mine and pressed his face to my arm. "You didn't kill anybody, Kurt," I whispered.

"But, that boy…"

"Jason?"

"Yes, I could have…I should have gone back for him."

"Kurt, I stopped you from going back in there because it was his time to die. I think…I think Jason's better off now. He's shed his sick body, and his soul is free." I paused, "And Jean made a decision. She knew what she was doing. She made that choice, Kurt. And I believe that she didn't regret it, right up until the moment she took her last breath."

I let go and sat beside Kurt on the windowsill. "You can't blame yourself, Kurt. You haven't done anything."

Kurt rested his head on my shoulder. He was tired, worn out by grief. I felt a sudden sting from my back, where the bullet had pierced my flesh, and twisted an arm back to rub it. Kurt noticed.

"It bothers me," I confessed, "it'll go away soon."

"M…may I see?" I raised an eyebrow, but turned and let him run a hand up the back of my shirt. Kurt gently examined it. There was nothing left now but a scar, though occasionally it smarted. He pushed up my shirt more to get a better look. And saw my other scar.

"What in Heaven's Name made these?" Kurt exclaimed to me, I felt his trace over on of the scars with a fingertip. Two long slender scars, formed from deep cuts, one that was just off center from being right between my shoulder blades, made by a stab, the other ran from my left shoulder to the middle of my right shoulder blade, they formed a sort of cross on my back.

"Those are nothing," I reassured him, "They're ancient." Literally

"How'd you get them?" he asked me concerned.

I sighed, "You know there was a war in Heaven," I said slowly, I had never talked about these scars with a human before, "And I fought. Just like all the other angels, I fought." The sights and sounds of the battle flooded my memory, but I pushed them away. "One of the rebels stabbed me in the back, here." I reached over my shoulder to touch the shorter, vertical scar. "And I fell. When he withdrew the dagger, he slashed the longer cut into my back as well. These cuts were made with a blade forged in Hellfire, that's why they left scars." I turned, and looked at Kurt, he looked away. I knew there were tears in my eyes; it's still a hard thing for me to talk about. "We all have our scars," I said, trying to sound strong, "Inside and out."

Just then, I saw two birds land on the sill outside: a raven and a dove. The raven represented me, the dove represented the Glory. I was being called home. My job here was over. "Kurt," I whispered softly, "Kurt, I need to go."

He looked up, "You…you're leaving? Do you have to?"

"The Creator calls me."

He nodded sadly, "Victoria, can I ask one favor of you?"

"Anything."

"Will you take a message with you? To Gott?" I nodded. "Just…just tell Him _danke_, for everything."

"I will," I promised, "Goodbye, Kurt. I'll see you someday. When you get to Heaven, I'll be waiting for you."

I rose, and he rose with me. "Goodbye," Kurt whispered through tears, "Until we meet again."

"Until then," I agreed, "I'll come see you when I can, though you may not be able to see me. I think you'll know when I'm there, though," I smiled as best I could, "I'll be watching over you, Kurt." He nodded.

Nightcrawler bowed to me with a flourish. When he looked up, I was gone.

I hadn't gone, but I was now invisible even to him. It was time to go home. Kurt sat down on the bed, and sighed. I reached down and ruffled his hair, he looked up in astonishment, then smiled, "_Auf Wiedersehen_, Victoria," he whispered. I bowed, even though he couldn't see me. Then a felt myself lift up through the ceiling, and I was gone.


	18. We Meet In Heaven

Someone asked me about the statement in my first chapter about Victoria saying she had been on the job about two years. there is a explanation about angelic years in this chapter.

Only 1 more chapter to go after this.

* * *

Anthony, my supervisor, greeted me warmly as I stepped into his office. "Victoria! Wonderful job! Upstairs loves it!"

"How high up?"

"As high up as I get to read the reports."

I smiled, "Any chance I'll get to go back to him?"

Anthony's brow furrowed, "More than likely, given the situation. Oh, and I've put in an application for you to be his Collector, when the time comes."

"You did?" I said excitedly, this application meant that, when Kurt died, I could even be pulled off an assignment to collect his soul.

"You earned it, Victoria. Especially with that bullet through the chest."

I blushed violently at that, "I should've been paying more attention."

"You were doing what an angel needs to do, taking care of your assignment, at any cost to yourself."

My thoughts turned now to serious matters. "Jason, Jean, what happened to them?"

"Ah," Anthony said, smiling, "I thought you'd want to hear the good news." I brightened at that. "Jason's already been settled comfortably in here. You can go see him whenever you want. Jean's got a pass in, but there has been some confusion."

"Confusion?"

"Well," Anthony hesitated, "They can't get her in. She's not damned, but she might end up going back."

"A return? I've never seen a return after something like this."

Anthony shrugged somewhat, "The Creator has a plan for everyone. His plan for Jean must extend beyond this."

"I hope that she's still got that pass when she gets back," I said trying to sound as casual as Anthony did.

"She might be staying, we don't know until the order comes down." I nodded, "Well, Victoria, that's all. Take a few hours for yourself, I'll send a page for you should we need you."

"Yes, Sir, and blessings be with you."

"And with you… oh, and Victoria! Apparently some of your files have been misplaced. How long have you been doing this?"

"Two of our years, give or take."

"In human years?"

"Three centuries? Four?"

"Close enough. Go…sit down before you fall over. You look worked half to death."

"Hmmm…that'd be strange. An immortal working to death," I joked. Anthony smiled, shook his head, and I left.

Before taking Anthony's advice, went to see Jason. It took me almost a half an hour to find him in the register; we have so many people coming in lately. "I though humans were living longer?" I asked the register keeper. She shrugged.

"That's what they say, but I don't put much stock in it these days."

I bid her goodbye, and headed off to find Jason.

He was…far from what I expected. I had only known Jason as the twisted, malformed, abused form in the wheelchair, so imagine my surprise at seeing him as a young, strong, rather handsome brunette. "Jason? Jason Stryker?"

"Present!" Jason called, shooting me a smile, then he seemed to recognize me, "They tell me that you saw my little…um…display."

"Yes, and I'm so sorry, if I had let Kurt go back for you, you might still be alive."

"Alive for what? To be my father's slave and have him use me like I'm not even human? Or to be a silent lump in wheelchair for the rest of my life? Or I could have died in there anyway, and taken him with me. Death was the best thing that ever happened to me."

I nodded, "Welcome to Paradise, Jason."

"I've been welcomed twenty-eight times; I have no doubt where I am."

After leaving Jason, I went looking for Jean. I found her in what you could call Heaven's waiting room. "Jean Gray?"

She must have thought I was a page as she asked, "Did they finally figure this out?"

I shook my head apologetically, "I'm not with that department, but they said I could talk with you."

"Do I know you or something?"

"Well, you can call me Victoria. I know someone who knew you well, if briefly."

"Logan?"

"Kurt."

Jean smiled, "Yeah, he deserved you, I feel so sorry for him, I mean, he went through such terrible things. He was abused all his life, he never even got those few blessed years of being normal that the rest of us got. I didn't believe in angels until just a little while ago, and here I am in Heaven, while he's still with them on Earth, may as well be Hell. Knowing I could go back is the thing keeping me from going insane with guilt."

"You have no need to worry, Jean; your actions saved all their lives, nothing vain or selfish."

"You know, if they do send you back, they'll wipe this out of your memory."

"Yeah, they told me," Jean mumbled. "I'm kinda scared to go back," she confessed, "Just to go back into a world that hates us so much. If we start coming back from the dead, who knows what they'll do to us?"

I smiled dryly, "Heaven only knows."

Jean nodded, "Yeah, exactly. Some of them already think that we're evil. It'll be which trials or something."

"I understand Jean, 'till then, sit tight, okay?"

"yeah, okay, see you around, Victoria."

"I hope you do," I agreed, "Welcome to Paradise, Jean, however brief your stay might be." I left Jean there, and headed for my chambers to rest briefly before I was sent back to Earth.


	19. Resurrection

The nameless are housed in buildings much like dormitories, especially since angels such as TAGs are so rarely in our chambers anyway. Mine is filled with my hobby – homemade mobiles, created out of firm sticks wrapped in colored silken threads and decorated with semi-precious stones, feathers, and small bells and charms. I brushed my fingers against some of them, causing the bells to ring and the stones and charms to clink against each other.

I sunk tiredly onto a small cot in the room. Cot, desk, shelf filled random volumes accumulated through my several trips through the academy, and about thirty mobiles; that summed up the room.

I soon found that there was far too much on my mind to rest. I decided to take a quick trip back to Earth, back to Alkali Lake.

It took me very little time to arrive. I settled myself on a rock overlooking the now widespread water, and simply allowed my thoughts to flow. It was peaceful, beautiful, hiding the ugly scars of what had occurred here only days before. I sighed into the wind which stirred my long black hair.

I flew up, up into the air, doing some aerial acrobatics as I did so. Then I flew down just over the water's surface, so close I could feel spray on my face.

From beneath the water, I saw a fiery shape, like a huge pair of flaming wings. Fire trapped beneath water, fighting to get free. And in the wind I heard a voice. The wind in the trees, the water, all seemed to whisper "Resurrection, Resurrection, Resurrection…"


End file.
